


Together, We Can Go Anywhere

by Bubble_Pomme



Series: Seasons with you [2]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ariana Dumbledore Lives, F/M, Family Bonding, Friendship, Happy Ending, Humor, M/M, Romance, Slice of Life, So Much Friendship, Spring 1900 and beyond, The Deathly Hallows, a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 60,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26408614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bubble_Pomme/pseuds/Bubble_Pomme
Summary: Albus and Gellert travelled around the world, and searched for the Deathly Hallows, amongst other things.Or: Adventuring was a full-time job, especially when you wanted to start a revolution, while you were at it.(Sequel of: I'm Not Gonna Go With Anyone Else)
Relationships: Aberforth Dumbledore/Vinda Rosier, Albus Dumbledore/Gellert Grindelwald
Series: Seasons with you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1919437
Comments: 64
Kudos: 115





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> I hope everything’s alright for you, and that you spent a nice summer (or winter, depends on where you are).  
> Ok, so the promised sequel! It’s probably going to be long (‘probably’ she said, you can taste the denial hahaha). I hope you’ll enjoy it! I’m very excited to share it with you :D

_“The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself. Therefore all progress depends on the unreasonable man.”  
George Bernard Shaw_

_Summer 1899 _  
  
Bathilda had fled the room, ‘to refill the tea pot’, as she had said. But since her depature, the minutes had dragged on and on, and it had soon become clear: she only had taken the first excuse she had in order to leave the two of them alone.  
  
Usually, this kind of transparent set-up would annoy Albus immensely. He always hated when people tried to force his hand, and at first, he could tell from the way his face had clouded, that it had annoyed Bathilda’s nephew just as much.  
For it was a set-up from Bathilda’s part, without doubt. She knew he visited her every Monday’s afternoon, and if the lemon pie and the coffee she prepared for the occasion was anything to go by, she had planned it carefully, in order to please them both and reach a sort of compromise.  
Her nephew had barely touched his plate, the pie too sweet for him it seemed, if the grimace he made was any indication. Albus had barely tasted his drink, disliking the bitter taste.  
But, despite it, Albus was curious.__

__He had immediately recognized Bathilda’s nephew as the man he saw in the graveyard._ _

__Albus had first noticed him two days ago, and really, how could he not? Any stranger was sure to stand out in their little village of Godric's Hollow, where everyone knew everyone. Albus had an inkling of what the other young man had been searching for, crouched to the ground next to Peverell’s tomb.  
  
So far, Albus’s summer had consisted in making sure lunch and diner had been served on time, while living his thirst for travels through Elphias’s letters, so the idea that someone, might, believe the tales of Beedle the Bard to be true was… positively intriguing._ _

__All in all, Gellert Grindelwald was proving to be terribly distracting._ _

__His hands moved when he spoke, like a ballet improvised for him. His heterochromatic eyes were mesmering. His golden locks framed his face perfectly. They looked soft. Albus’s fingers inched to run inside them.  
  
He forced himself to not stare so obviously, but his mind kept taking notes of his every moves, the variation of rhythm in his speech, his tone. Even his voice was interesting, neither too deep nor high, a perfect middle ground, soft and assured at the same time, marching with precision. His faint accent, almost invisible (but of course Albus remarked it), charmed him even more.  
Grindelwald continued to talk about the article Albus’s wrote, and he felt that he ought tell him so._ _

__“I wrote this, actually.” he said feeling awkward and by Merlin, he hoped he wasn’t blushing. His grip on his spoon was too tight, so he decided to put it down. He took a breath and forced himself to relax, surely it shouldn’t be so hard. “Last month, I also had another one of my article published in Transfi-”_ _

__“Wait.” Grindelwald cut, leaning even closer to him on the couch and putting his cup down with a ‘click’ on the low table of Bathilda’s living-room. Grindelwald was either unaware of personnal space or chosed to ignore the notion entirely. Albus was very torn by the lack of distance between them. On one hand he wasn’t against having him closer, quite the contrary. On the other, he feared Grindelwald would be able to hear his rabbit heart hammering into his chest. Boom, boom. (He could picture it clearly, him betrayed by his heart.) “You’re the one who wrote it?” he repeated fascinated, before realization drawn on him, “A.D. Albus Dumbledore. You signed them with your initials.”_ _

__“I admit, not my most creative move.” He smiled nervously. He wished Bathilda had told him about her nephew coming, he certainly would have been more mindful of his appearence. He passed a hand into his hair, subtly trying to make them more presentable. It was hopeless, he knew, but it busied his fingers._ _

__Grindelwald’s whole face light up in excitement and Albus might have stopped breathing for all he knew. “This is amazing. I can’t believe you’re the one who wrote all of this.” he smiled, and the praise made Albus’s heart beat faster. “I thought you were some old scholar, living like a recluse, in the middle of nowhere.”_ _

__Albus laughed, amused by the image. “I hope you’re not too deceived.”_ _

__“Believe me, I’m not.” his eyes shone in interest. One of his arm came to rest on the back of the couch. “And call me Gellert.” he demanded, “I’ve Seen you, and it makes me believe that we’re going to be close.”_ _

__He had ‘seen’? What a strange choice of words… ‘Seen’ like a Seer would? He shook his head with a smile, discarding the notion entirely. He knew better than to believe in Divination, especially when there were more logical explanations. Gellert was Austrian. He must have mistaken a word for another. Or maybe, he had spotted him that day at the graveyard too._ _

__“As close as brothers?” Albus wondered instead._ _

__Gellert’s smile became full of mischief, but his eyes stayed soft. “I was hoping, closer than this.”_ _

__

__*  
Paris, 1900, April, Sunday 22nd  
  
Albus knocked on the heavy black door after checking the adress written on his card, one last time.  
  
51, rue de Montmorency.  
  
The woman who opened the door looked very old intead, with long dark and grey hair, going way past her shoulders, and into her back. She wore a simple deep orange witch’s robe. It gave him hope that they were at the right adress._ _

__“Yes?” She asked, guarded. One of her hand was tight against the wood of the door-frame, while the other was hidden from view. Her casting hand, he suspected. Her pale green eyes swept to him to Fawkes on his shoulder to Ariana in rapid sucession. His fingers brushed against his wand secured onto his belt, ready if he must._ _

__Albus smiled, ignoring her tense posture. “Hello. Are we at the Flamel?” she nodded. He tried to put her at ease. “I’m Albus Dumbledore, and this is my sister, Ariana,” Ariana did a little bow and positionned herself next to him._ _

__Realization drew on her, and her whole demeanour changed. “Oh!” she smiled, making even more wrinkles appear. “Sorry, sorry, I’m terribly rude.” she apologized and opened her door wider so they could enter, “I’m Pernelle Flamel, my husband is out, but he should be back shortly. Please come in, you must have made a long travel.”_ _

__

__*  
“I’m very happy you could finally visit me, Albus.” Nicolas said after they shook hand, delicately of course, Albus didn’t want to break him. Ones tended to be fragile when they reached a certain… age._ _

__By the time it took her to prepare them something to drink, Nicolas had come back, grim at first, but he immediately perked up when he noticed their presence. Meanwhile, Pernelle had refused all help with the tea, and on the contrary insisted to take care of it._ _

__The inside of the Flamel’s house was better than the outside.  
  
It seemed to have many floor, the house being narrow but high. Pernelle said that they had a little owlery at the top for his bird if he wanted. He shook his head in negative while thanking her, Fawkes enjoyed following him, and without Giselle, Gellert’s moody owl, to keep him company he might sulk if Albus agreed to it.  
  
An ancestor painting was hanging on the hallway, greeting them with a detached politness. The rest of the house was cluttered with many things. Mainly papers and books, but he also spotted a huge maritime map, full of notes, exposed on the wall. The furnitures were rather exotic, he saw a chinese dresser and a painted fan resting next to a dark Victorian table. The mix of style was surprising at first, but not unpleasant.  
For Albus, it was as if stepping into a dozen of country at the same time, and he enjoyed trying to find the inspiration behind each items.  
The living-room, where she had leaded them, was cosy, with its little windows showing the streets and the pots of flowers they hung to it. The chairs they sat on, must have been older than all of them reunited. Well, older than Ariana and him, this was for sure. Under their foot was an impressive persian rug, its size almost reached half of the room, and its rich colour made sure it was noticed. _ _

__“I’m glad to be here as well, Nicolas.” He assured him in a smile. There was a white mat covering the table. He thought it was hand-made._ _

__“Your letter, informing me of your visit, surprised me though.” Nicolas gently remarked, “Is Egypt not as stunning as I remember it?”_ _

__“Oh no, it was absolutely amazing.” some hours ago, Albus and Ariana were still in Egypt with Elphias, gazing up at pyramids. He liked it a lot there, and could understand the passion in which his friend talked about it. The sun warming the pale yellow sand, the Nil lazily flowing, its waves barely touching the shore, like a caress, unshakeable as ever, even when empires fell under its feet. The pyramids, these immense graves made by kings and queens wanting to be remembered after Death had struck. He found all of this fascinating, and in another life, would have be content with only this. “But I was needed in Paris, a friend of mine may have found something of interest.” He informed Nicolas as he took the light china cup between his fingers._ _

__He took it to his lips and tasted a strong aroma. Jasmine. He saw Ariana doing the same, with some apprehension, she was clearly anxious to make an abrupt movement that could result in breaking the cup. Fawkes was trying to gulp down a biscuit in one go. Albus feared he gave him an awful exemple._ _

__“Merlin knows it’s a pleasure to have both of you here, but it’s not an ideal moment to visit Paris, I’m afraid.” Nicolas sighed._ _

__Ariana tilted her head to one side in consideration. The english curls she made with her blond hair for the occasion, brushed over her face at the movement. “Because of the Universal Exposition?”_ _

__The Universal Exposition of Paris had started last Saturday, 14th, and reunited Muggles of all countries, gathering themselves to discover the lastest invention that might revolution the new century. He heard the wizarding community in Paris had copied the Muggles and was holding an impressive Exposition of its own. Albus couldn’t wait to go. Especially since Gellert must be roaming there already._ _

__“Oh no.” Nicolas waved the matter away, “Though, lately it’s been a source of concern as well.”_ _

__“Of concern?” Albus repeated, “What do you mean?”_ _

__Nicolas and Pernelle shared a look as she came to sit with them. “Yesterday there had been an accident there. A bridge fell down suddently. Le Ministère is investigating on it.” Pernelle informed them._ _

__“It’s terrible.” Ariana breathed. Albus shared the feeling. “Do they know what happened?”_ _

__“Not yet.” Nicolas told them, “This is why I was out in fact. They asked me to take a look at it. So far, it seems like a regrettable accident. It had been built for the Exposition, and in a such a haste, you see.” He explained with a shake of his head._ _

__“May I ask, what is the main concern then? I couldn’t help but notice, how tense you seemed.” He told Pernelle in particular. She appeared to be exceptionally calm, which made her attitude at the door even more curious._ _

__She gazed down at her warm drink, “There had been several case of disparitons these past months.” She admitted gravely._ _

__“Disparitions?” Albus frowned at this._ _

__“Yes.” she nodded, pulling a strand of hair behind her ear, “All wizards. Those missing cases are worrying.” her grip on her cup tighten, “Le Ministre has been beside herself, trying to find them. For now though, they have no leads.”_ _

__“Which is why they became a little paranoid with yesterday’s accident. All those strangers, reunited in the same location… They fear a diplomatic scandal.” Nicolas revealed, worried. “The last missing case put the whole Ministère into stupor.” he explained, “Some must have thought they would be protected thanks to their surname.” Nicolas bit into his first biscuit, while Fawkes was, at least, in his third._ _

__“Who disappeared?” Albus questionned after seconds of silence._ _

__“The Rosier’s daughter,” Pernelle said, “Vinda Rosier.”_ _

__

__*  
Nicolas, when Albus wrote to him and told him of his project to go to Paris soon, had offered to house the two of them.  
Albus had been reluctant at first, he didn’t want to impose, especially in such a short notice. But Nicolas had assured him that it would be a pleasure for him and his wife, so he had accepted.  
  
The rooms they were given were agreeable which was all Albus demanded. They both got their own, on the same floor, with their a little bathroom each. Ariana looked ready to crash on her bed for the next ten hours when they finally made their way upstairs after diner. Fawkes was already ahead of her, and had curled into Albus’s arms hours ago. He didn’t stir, seemingly lost to the world, as long as he got Albus’s shirt bewteen his claws. He petted his feather’s head absently. Ariana hesitated when they reached her door._ _

__“Do you think something happened to Vinda Rosier?” She inquired, her fingers travelling on the smooth fabric of her dress and pulling at the bow circling her waist._ _

__“I’m sure she’s fine.” he smiled to reassure her, “She’s a Rosier after all.” She seemed hardly hopeless. Which was the worrying part._ _

__Ariana made a moue as if coming to the same conclusion. “What about Gellert? He was with her, wasn’t he not?” she prompted, “And you have no more news…” She trailed, upset._ _

__“We’ll find them.” Albus soothed her, “You heard Nicolas: the French Ministry and the others delegations are woking together on it. There are even British Aurors on the case.” he tried to infuse as much faith as he could with his words, though he was starting to believe that each country was trying to use those disparitions to outshine the other. Politic was often about ego. Albus just wished they didn’t forget the main concern: the missing wizards. “And we don’t know yet if Gellert was with Vinda when she disappeared. Maybe he’s researching for her as well.”_ _

__Ariana looked as unconvinced as he was by the Aurors’s skills. It had been months since the first case after all. But whatever clouded her, was put on hold as she yawned. He laughed and she blushed, embarrassed._ _

__“Sorry.” She apologized, sheepish._ _

__“Go to sleep, we’ll talk about it tomorrow.” He promised her. She tiptoed to kiss his cheek and went into her room, to hopefully dream of sands and pyramids._ _

__Albus retired as well. After he abandoned his shirt to Fawkes, leaving him to nest with it, he put on his sleep clothes, and fell into the bed in exhaustion, feeling the matress dip under his weigh._ _

__Gellert had flat out refused to come with them on their Egyptian’s tour, declaring that the too hot weather didn’t agree with him. Albus still snorted at the poor excuse. The only thing truly disagreeing with Gellert, was Elphias. He had stayed in Nurmengard, practising speeches for futur rallies. Gellert was a perfectionist and wouldn’t stop re-writing it until he was satisfied._ _

__Then, he had a Vision about the cloak of invisibility being in Paris, and decided to go there._ _

__Gellert had written to him, five days ago, to tell him he was meeting with Vinda in Montmatre. She was to be his guide there, as it happened to be her school’s break.  
Gellert and Vinda wrote to each other regulary ever since they met, developing a strange sort of friendship where they compared notes on how to overthrow a government. Albus had actually taken a quick look at it, but for now, had choosen to stay out of it. Their plans were nowhere near successful, he thought he still had some months before he had to intervene._ _

__But, ever since that fateful letter, Albus had received no more news, by neither of them._ _

__Now, Vinda was missing, since fourth days if the Flamel’s informations were correct. Nicolas told them that Vinda’s father was even giving a reward to whoever found his daughter. Gellert was Merlin knew where in the city, and the cloak of invisibility was still out of their reach._ _

__Albus didn’t believe in coincidence. Vinda might have ran into troubles during her search of the cloak. Though, whether Gellert had been with her at the time remained a mystery._ _

__He played with the chain of their pendant, twirling it between his fingers. Their blood pact had shown no signs of distress, which must mean that Gellert, wherever he was, was unarmed. He had to be anyway, Albus decided, because if Gellert left him behind again, Albus would hex him so much. He would put Aberforth on him, full time, and Greety too, so he would be annoyed behond his mind and stuffed behond human’s needs.  
  
Of course, Gellert couldn’t have waited a few days for him, he scoffed. It was ironic when he thought of it, because it was the elder wand that Gellert hungered for, while Albus wished for the resurrection stone fiercely, because, because…_ _

__Anyway, Gellert promised him forever._ _

__So there were no need to be anxious. He rolled their pendant inside his palm, it was pleasantly warm.  
He gazed at the cracks who marred the white ceiling, drawing dry rivers on it. He tried to will himself to fall aspleep. But the minutes ticked and sleep stayed out of his reach. His mind simply refusing to shut up. He got up again, and left his room for the kitchen downstairs, a cup of warm milk with honey always did wonders on him. Albus swore sugar helped him to sleep, much to Gellert’s consternation.  
  
He made his way there, mindful not to disturb others with noises. But as he entered the kitchen, he came face to face with Pernelle, preparing herself a hot drink._ _

__“Oh.” she startled as she noted his presence, “Trouble sleeping too?”_ _

__“Just a bit.” he gently admitted, “I think I’m too anxious to sleep just now.”_ _

__She nodded in understanding. “I am as well.” she divulged, “Want some hot cocoa?” She offered._ _

__Albus smiled, “With pleasure.”_ _

__She poured the hot liquid into a mug, and gave it to him. He thanked her, breathing in the rich aroma of the chocolate mixed with the milk. He felt marginally better already. He saw her did the same. She sighed in happiness._ _

__“Let’s take this to the sitting room.” she proposed, “Like this, you could tell me what’s bothering you, and I could as well.” she smiled softly, “We may finally reach slumber.”_ _

Albus accepted, and they went to little room. Perenelle lighted the lamps with a twirl of her wand. They gave a soft glow, and after sitting into a confortable armchair, Albus feared to fall aspleep there. She took place on a couch near him and sipped into her drink.  
  
The room had not be forgotten by the Flamels’s frantic need to know, it was filled with little curiosities. There was a shelf full of books, where some volumes seemed to have slipped out of it, and were laying now on the floor, in a neat pile. There were charms hanging near the windows, and a old looking trunk with a huge lock. He wondered what was inside. But what really surprised him was the cristal ball on the low table. 

__“Are you or Nicolas fond of Divination?” He asked her, pointing the ball with a movement of his chin._ _

__She smiled, amused into her mug, before answering, “My husband latest obsession. He’s training himself, with this cristal ball, to see glimpses of the futur.” she laughed quietly, “He never got it right. He didn’t even see you coming.” she smiled, “I would say, maybe, in some decade…” She trailed in a hum._ _

__Albus smiled. “Nicolas is truly curious of everything.” he noted, “One of my friend, the one I came for, is a Seer. I think he would say that one cannot learn the art of Divination.” he recalled how Gellert had laughed himself silly when Albus had told him how they teached it at Hogwarts. He could still hear him, the memory of his voice still ringing inside his head, as he said breathless and mocking, from where they were both sitting under the old oak tree in Godric's Hollow, the leaves creating shadows on Gellert’s face: ‘tea leaves? Oh this is precious!’. Albus had simply looked at him in fascination. It had been the first time he had witnessed Gellert’s laugher. "He would say that you either See or you don’t.” He took a sip to make himself stop talking about Gellert, and enjoyed the dark cocoa on his tongue._ _

__“He would probably be right.” she said, “But my husband can be stubborn once he got an idea. And I enjoy watching him fixing that ball of his for hours.” she grinned, “The face he made then.” She mimicked it by opening her eyes comically wide. Albus laughed, it reminded him of when Gellert found out about Fawkes being a phoenix, after Fawkes had burnt part of the furnitures. He had made such a face too. He wished he could preserve it somehow, somewhere, where time couldn’t alter it. Pernelle waved the matter away, forcing Albus to focus on their conversation once again. “But tell me about this friend of yours.” She demanded eagerly._ _

__“He’s from Austria. We’ve met last summer, in Godric's Hollow.” Albus smiled at the memory. “He was visiting his Aunt, Bathilda Bagshot, who happened to be my neighbour. We… went along well.” He explained, remembering Bathilda’s choice of words, ‘like a cauldron on fire’, and discarding it. It sounded… too explicit, he thought._ _

__Pernelle studied him for a moment, “You seem very fond of him.” She finally told him._ _

__“I… yes.” Albus stammered, feeling his cheeks heat. He hoped the poor light of the room hid the worst of it._ _

__“I’m sorry.” Pernelle murmured, “I didn’t want to upset you.” she assured, “It’s only that your eyes become terribly soft when you talk about him.”_ _

__Albus was sure he was blushing fully now. “I… They do?”_ _

__She acquiesced, “Yes. And I noticed your pendant when we took the tea earlier…” she trailed curious, “Is it a blood pact?”_ _

__Albus fiddled once more with the chain, “Yes, it is.” He confessed in a whisper. He could tell her this. Albus trusted the Flamel. It was little sad that he could disclose this to her and not to his own brother. But after what happened last summer in the old barn, Albus wasn’t taking any chances._ _

__“I thought so. I’ve got to say, it’s been a long time since I saw one.” she continued to drink unperturbed, and this more than anything, put Albus at ease. She truly didn’t care that he just revealed to have perfomed an illegal bonding ritual, or that she suspected him to be in love a man. “Are you meeting with this friend of yours soon?” She inquired in an excited smile._ _

__“I do not know. He was supposed to write to me, days ago, but nothing came. And now I learned that Vinda Rosier, the person he was with, is missing.” His fingers drummed against the ceramic. He should have worked harder on his deluminator. If it was functioning correctly, instead of only making sparks of lights and messing with electricity, he would have already found Gellert._ _

__“Oh. No wonder you can’t sleep.” she sympathised, “I find myself very troubled by it too. The chances for it to turn into a diplomatic accident are too great. I do not wish to witness another war between wizards nor muggles.” her eyes dropped, unfocused inside her mug, “I saw enough of them.”_ _

__Albus bet she did. “I understand.”_ _

__She smiled gratefully at him, before wondering, “Are you going to search for the Rosier’s daughter and your friend then?”_ _

__“Yes.” he nodded, “I thought I would start by going to the Place cachée tomorrow.” he said, “For they were supposed to meet near.” Hopefully, he would find a clue on where Gellert went from there._ _

__“Do you need a map? I think I have one laying somewhere…” She trailed as she regarded the clustered room in dismay._ _

__“Yes, I believe it could be useful.” Albus agreed in a laugh._ _

__“I will give it to you before you leave tomorrow then. I’m sure you will find them.” she announced firmly as if to give him faith, “And when you do, do present us to your friend. Someone catching your interest is wothy to know, I believe.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Thank you for all your kudos, bookmarks and for my one comment ;). It's truly my only way to know if you enjoy this fic, so don't hesitate, I would love to know what you think :)

April, Monday, 23rd

Ariana had agreed with Albus that the best way to find Gellert and Vinda was to start where they had been. And in the last letter Albus had, Gellert had said to be in the wizarding district of Montmatre, for he was to meet Vinda there.

The two of them stood in front the Magical Bronze Statue protecting the entry. He got his wand out discreetly, and after checking no one was looking at them, it was early and the streets were calm, he softly knocked on her feet with it, asking for entrance. She opened her stoned eyes for him, barely glancing at Ariana, before she lifted her robes to let them pass.  
Once on the other side, they were assaulted by noises, the streets here far more awoken than the Muggle’s. With the Exposition going, there was quite a crowd gathered there. The streets were paved with booth, from various countries, all trying to sell their goods or to promote their skills.

Albus admitted to be a bit taken by it all. His eyes went to the busy streets, to the shops with their lovely painted façade. He lingered on the posters stuck on some windows, these beautiful Art Déco creation, the curving of the writing, the soft colours, the way all women painted into it were like ancient goddesses with their togas drapped over them, and the serene expression they wore. They seemed as alive as wizards painting and just as secretive, with their smiles, barely tugging at their rosy lips, as if they knew something and it was amusing them to see other guessed on it.  
Fawkes nipped, insistent, at his collar.

“What?” he asked him, absently as his eyes were fluttering like a butterfly, in an attempt to not miss a thing. Fawkes nipped at his collar again, but with more force this time. He focused on him, from where he was perched on his left shoulder. “Careful. You’re going to tear it.” if Fawkes could rolled his eyes, he thought he would just now. Instead he made a high sound as he turned his feathered head around. Albus did the same, without whistling. “Elphias?” He called in surprise as he recognized his friend in this crowd of strangers.

“Elphias?” Ariana repeated bewildered, distracted too, by the agitation surrounding them.

“Ah, thank Merlin, I found you.” Elphias said, relief written all over his face, as he made his way to them, “It’s crazy here.”

Elphias stopped before them, and Albus blinked at him, taken aback. The last he knew, Elphias was in Egypt, working on the Runes he found inside a temple, not walking down the Parisian's streets; wearing his favorite bottle green coat along a matching little hat disposed on the side of his head, from which his curly hair were escaping. 

“What are you doing here?” Albus asked in stupor.

“I heard about Vinda Rosier.” Elphias told them, “I came because, huh,” he hesitated, shifting on his feet, “Well, you left in a rush and you told me you were meeting with her and Gellert. I’ve wanted to be sure everything was alright for you.” He said, as if unsure of his welcome.

“News travel fast.” Ariana remarked. Fawkes made a melodic sound of agreement.

“I’m glad you’re here.” Albus assured Elphias in a small smile, “But you didn’t have to travel all the way.” Elphias had already been nice enough to guide them around for a week, Albus didn’t wish to bother him more.

“Well, it’s what friends are for.” Elphias smiled sheepish, “Say, do you have a lead on Vinda Rosier yet? Did you find Gellert?”

“No.” Ariana replied, sadly shaking her head, “We only know Gellert was here. We assume that he met Vinda as they had previously agreed on.” She resumed for him. 

“Do you know where they were supposed to meet exactly?” Elphias prompted.

“Yes.” Albus said, “Near a pub, called ‘Le Nénuphar’.” He explained, “Why?” He added.

Elphias smiled, “Because, I think I know a spell which could be useful.” 

*  
They found Le Nénuphar after some asking around. The three of them stood before its stylish front. As the name of the pub suggested, there was a big water lily represented on the front with a frog on top of it. It was slowly turning on itself, the pale pink petals caught in an endless spin. Elphias took several steps away from them, and Ariana and Albus watched him with various degree of confusion.

“What are you doing?” Ariana caved first, curiosity eating at her.

“I need space to cast this spell.” he explained as he crunched, his lips brushing the tip of his wand. “Appare Vestigium.” He exhaled, swirling on himself, as his breath swept around them like a breeze.

Under their eyes, footprints started to appear, as gold as a galleon. Soon they were covering the grey stones of the streets. Albus’s eyes widened along Ariana, and even Fawkes decided to fly on the top of a lamppost to survey the result. Forms appeared, like the shadows of previous passers-by, they went and came, their shapes barely coming into existence before fading again, back into nothing. It was like watching an old memory.

“Impressive!” Ariana congratulated Elphias, her little dress and her pale blue coat bouncing as she jumped, enjoyed. She moved out of the way of the golden shape of a man going toward her, even though, it all had happened before, and the man was already long gone.

“I didn’t know this one.” Albus awed, always happy to discover something new. He looked at this ephemeral crowd, his eyes seeking one man in particular.

Elphias blushed and smiled, embarrassed, “Thanks. I only recently learned of it, to be trustful.”

They circled around the various prints, scrutinizing the ground.  
Gellert often wore his beloved high boots, Albus saw the mark they left on the snow, the precise shape standing out in the white powder. He let his eyes roam around, but then Fawkes made a sound from where he was perched above, signaling him something of interest, and Albus followed his line of sight. His eyes settled on two furtives figures, standing in front of the window of the pub. Gellert and Vinda Rosier were facing each other. They seemed to be sharing some pleasantries. Gellert had his backpack with him, Albus could almost distinguish his owl, Giselle, moodily nipping at the bars of her little cage. Vinda was still wearing her Beaubâtons’s uniform.  
They were there, and in the the next breath, their shapes disappeared like smoke.

“Here.” Albus pointed as he went and stopped where Gellert had stood. Fawkes landed, graceful, on his shoulder. But Albus only had eyes for the unmistakable shape of Gellert’s boots, accompanied by a delicate pair of feet on heels. 

Elphias and Ariana came over to gaze at the footprints as well.

“Alright.” Elphias said after a while, “Now, we follow their trails and see where it goes.”

*  
They walked around the district blindly, following Gellert and Vinda’s steps with their eyes glued to the ground. They only stopped when the prints ended, somewhere on the top of the hill of Montmatre. The streets here were full of artists, painters with their brushes, applying colour on their canvases, precariously balanced on the uneven ground, while their clients kept pose. There was a broom shop at the corner, who also sold flying carpet. Albus smiled, he saw them in Egypt too, and mused it must be far more confortable than riding a broomstick.  
The street kept going higher, and he spotted some people leaving the wizarding district for the Muggle one, through yet another statue, a white marble man this time.

“I got no idea where we are.” Elphias nervously told them as he looked around, “Should I be worried that we lost ourselves too?”

“No. We’ll find our way back.” Albus appeased. “Pernelle Flamel gave me a map, don’t worry.” He tried to see what stood out here, in what Gellert would have been atracted to. The more close to the footprints seemed to be an art gallery. He wasn’t sure of the revelance it could have with the cloak of invisibility, but if Gellert had gone here, then he must too.

Albus regarded it thoughtfully. The façade of the buiding was tall, with three floors. In its whole, it looked like a house, but most shutters were closed, giving the impression that only the first floor, where the art gallery was, opened to the street and welcoming, was lived; while the floors upstairs seemed devoid of anything. It was an unsettling combination.

“Should we enter?” Ariana pondered as she too gazed at the gallery, looking far more wary than him though.

“Yes, let’s do this.”

*  
The inside of the art gallery was neatly organized. Most frames were pinned on the walls disposed in perfect symmetry and according to their height.  
It didn’t change the fact that the space was clustered with moving images. It kind of gave Albus an headache to see all these movements constantly in the periphery of his eyesight.

He decided to study only one painting at a time. Elphias seemed to have the same idea as he went to inspect the other side of the shop. Ariana lingered next to door, already looking at one.  
The one he was inspecting represented a young witch, around Ariana’s age, who was sitting near a river. Her expression seemed melancholic as she stared into the clear water. Her body barely moved, but the details were in the way her blond hair flew, implying a light breeze, the movement of the river’s water, the dress she folded so she could put her bare feet into the stream. 

Albus couldn’t explain why exactly, he was not new to wizards paintings nor a great amateur of it, he preferred photography, the art of capturing an instant instead of trying to trap a whole person into only one acrylic, but there was something nagging at him about this picture.  
And, whatever it was, it was terribly off-putting.  
He came closer and examined it with more attention. It seemed to be of very good quality as the subject looked to be truly real and alive, but that was all. Maybe it was the sad expression lingering on the young girl's face who was upsetting him, but before he could dwell further on it, a shadow fell next to him, obscuring the view, and he looked up.

“Do you enjoy my work?” a witch around her fourty asked him. She was wearing an impressive amount of rings on her fingers, and her dark brown hair were falling on her shoulders. She smiled at him, a strange light coming into her eyes as she studied him. “You would make a good model for a painting.” She told him, coming closer, as if to study him.

Ah. The artist of all of this, he supposed. He took a polite step back. “I do like what you create. It’s…” he trailed, searching for word, besides ‘dull’, “Interesting.” He lied easely.

Her smiled widen, and became all teeth. “Thank you. But I was serious.” she said, “Between your pale eyes, skin and your hair, you make quite a sight. The contrast would be beautiful.” she said, her attention rapt on him, “I would love to paint you.”

He willed himself not to blush. She eyed him up and down; Fawkes doing the same from his favorite position, his shoulder, though not for the same reason.  
Meanwhile, Albus became abruptly self conscious of his looks, the way his hair must have been ruffled from the wind and from Fawkes, how old his open dark wine coat actually was, how his fingers still had smudge of ink on them, because he couldn’t resist working on his deluminator this morning and thus, had to take note of his progress.  
There had been only a little blackout this time, he counted this as promising.  
He heard Ariana huffed a laugh.

“Ah.” he started, lost of words for once, “Thanks, but I have to decline this offer.” He settled for, forcing a smile. The whole thing, her wide smile, her paintings, made him ill at ease, somehow even more than her clear leering.

She made an exaggerated moue, “That’s too bad.” she sounded truly disappointed, “Take my card,” she produced a rectangular glossy paper, “You know, if you change your mind.” she winked at him. “My studio is upstairs.” She informed him as she looked at him under half-lidden eyes.

He took it quietly and a bit uneasy. The silvers letters advertized:  
_Doriana Tumer  
Painted Portraits and Landscapes  
66 Rue des Murmures, Montmatre_

____

____

Thankfully, Elphias came to put him out of his misery. “We’re searching for two friends of us, you may have met them,” he started, “a young girl-” Ariana elbowed him “-woman” he corrected, “with black hair, around this height.” he approximately showed her with his hand, “She was with a man of our age, with blond hair.”

Blond curly hair, Albus almost precised. And beautiful heterochromatic eyes. But he easely admitted to be biased.

She shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, I don’t remember them.” she told them, eyeing them with some suspicion now. “There’s just too much tourists to remember them all.”

“We never say they were tourists.” Albus pointed out. Technically, Gellert was one, but she wasn't supposed to know this.

Her eyes fluttered, in unconcealed surprise, “Oh, I just assumed, since you’re clearly Bristish.”

You’re lying, Albus could tell without having to dive into her thoughts. She was hidding something, and was obviously displeased by their questioning.

He forced a smile, “Thank you for your help,” he said, faking gratitude, “I hope we didn’t take too much of your time.”

He felt Ariana tugging at the sleeve of his coat with a ‘that’s all?’ expression. She, too, seemed to think that the witch knew more that she let on. He took her hand with his and tried to express with a look that this was not over.

“No, of course, not.” The witch lied just as much as him, “Do think about my proposition. I would love to paint you.”

He didn’t know why, but this sounded like a threat.

*  
“She’s so suspicious.” Ariana declared as they walked back to the Flamel’s house. Fawkes made a sound of displeasure, he seemed to not like Miss Tumer at all.

“Yes, but we can’t hardly tell her this and then ask to search inside her home.” Elphias replied. “Which is just too bad. The prints stopped there, we need to search inside her home.” He sighed tiredly.

Albus hummed in agreement, “You’re right. We need to go inside and see by ourselves.”

“But she will never let us.” Elphias reminded him.

“We could go inside without her knowing.” Ariana suggested. At Elphias wide and shocked look she added, “Not to steal anything! Just to look around, and if there’s nothing, we leave just as we enter.”

“This is still illegal!” Elphias exclamed wildly.

“But they’re our friend.” she countered, fiddling with the brooch she put at the center of her coat. It was a pretty little thing representing a chamomille flower. Albus knew that it was Gellert who gifted her this. She rarely parted from it ever since she got it. “They’re more important than some law.” She continued in a small voice.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” Elphias shifted on his feet.

Albus intervened before they could both confound themselves in apologies. “Breaking-in is a good plan, but we need Miss Tumer either busy elsewhere in the house, or, more preferably, gone.” He explained.

“And her house must have wards. We can’t just tear them down. It will alert her.” Elphias continued.

“The wards won’t be a problem,” Albus said in a smile, “I know someone who can pass us through.”

Elphias looked at him in wonder, “Really?”

“Well, then it’s easy,” Ariana brightened, “Since we already knew how to keep her busy.” She smirked.

“How?” Albus asked, genuinely curious.

“With you.” she took the card Doriana Tumer gave him out of his pocket, “I‘m sure you will be an amazing model.”

*  
Elphias, after some convincing from both Ariana and him, accepted to stay with them at the Flamel’s house. He apologized a lot to Nicolas and Pernelle for imposing his presence, but Nicolas shutted his platitude with a quick reassurance. Pernelle catched Albus’s eyes meaningfully, clearly wanting to know if Elphias was ‘his friend’, to which Albus shook his head and cursed his fair complexion as he felt his cheeks heat. She looked terribly put out.

Since the Flamel only had two spare bedroom, Elphias shared his room for the night. It was a little like back at Hogwarts, when they shared dormitory, with their beds side by side. It made him feel nostalgic.  
  
He was sure Gellert would hate it. He was so jealous of Elphias, unreasonably so. Albus didn't understand why.

“You never told me,” Elphias’s voice rang from the other side of the bed, where he was laying on his right arm and looking at him in amusement. After a long negociation, Fawkes conceded to sleep on his perch instead of taking the other side of the bed. Another thing that Gellert barely tolerated. ‘He may be a phoenix, but beds are for human, Albus. I’m not sleeping with him.’ He had said after… a pecular circumstance. To this day, Fawkes and Gellert still tended to gaze at eath other warily, both wondering if the other would dare to take their rightful place on the matress. Albus blinked his reverie away, as Elphias asked, “How is it to live in a castle?”

Albus laughed, “It’s nice.” he shifted on the bed, turning on his stomach and putting his head to rest on his crossed arms so he could easely see Elphias, “There’s Greety, the house-elf I wrote to you about, who’s living there as well. She’s something.” he chukled but didn’t divulge more, letting Elphias the surprise, “You should see the view we have on the mountains.” he said, dreamy, “I shall do a photograph of them and send it to you, but even then, I fear it won’t be as amazing as the original. There is a study, where I wrote my last Transfiguration paper, with the windows facing them. I find it peaceful.”

Elphias hummed and his eyes took a far away look as he seemed to try to visualize it. Then, he asked carefully, “And what about Gellert?”

Albus noted Elphias’s hesitation, “It’s fine with Gellert too.” he said, strangely on his guard, “He’s still convinced he can get rid of my purple lamp, and I let him believe he succeeds sometimes, before I make it reappear.” he grinned in mischief, “It drives him mad.”

Elphias smiled back briefly. “If…” he shifted on the matress, before he started again “I mean, if you had troubles, you would tell me right?”

“Why would I have troubles?” Albus questionned back. “You mean, if I had troubles with Gellert.” He precised, feeling his shoulders rose, either in defence, either so he could hide completely inside his arms, he wasn’t sure.

Elphias exhaled as he passed a hand in his short hair, managing to mess them, “It’s not that I’m not happy for you,” he explained quickly, “because I am.” he assured. “But last time when he left you, you were just so…” he trailed, his hand trying to describe it by slashing the air. “Depressed, Albus. Even in your letters I could tell.” his eyes seeked his, gentle and apologic, “I just don’t want you to be disappointed. You’re putting so much of yourself into this. And I fear that, if it didn’t end up well, you might shatter this time.”

Albus was the one who broke eye-contact first. Hiding sounded good right now. Where was the cloak of invisibility when you needed it? 

“I won’t shatter.” he promised firmly to Elphias, “I know you’re worried for me, ever since my mother’s passing.” because Elphias attended Kendra’s funeral without prompting. Albus almost had to usher him out of Godric’s Hollow with thousand promises to write to him, so he would leave to his world trip. He had no delusion, one word of him then, and Elphias would have stay in Britain. He was this kind of friend. But Albus had been stuck in place and unwilling to chain Elphias there, even if it would have give him company. He would never have been this selfish. “But I am fine.” he tried to soothe him, “And be sure, if something was amiss, I would tell you about it. So we could make it alright again.” He smiled at him, thinking that if Gellert left him, (again, his treacherous mind added) nothing would make him feel better.

Maybe, Elphias was right to be worried.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay between chapters guys, and thank you for your patience :)  
> Enjoy!

_Summer 1899_

____

____

Albus was pretty sure this plan was doomed from the start. For one, Aberforth watched over his goats like an untrustful goblin. For two, Gellert liked to mess with his brother too much to be discreet about it.

“This is going to work, believe me.” Gellert assured him again, in a low whisper.

They were laying on their stomach on the grass near Aberforth’s fence and half hidding behind it. Gellert was wearing an ecstatic expression that promised nothing good, and Albus wondered why in the world he even agreed to participate.  
This was going to blow up to their faces. Or Aberforth’s. He wasn’t entirely sure.  
But they needed something to test their coloring potion on. Albus had been thinking of a piece of furniture or a clothe. Gellert had suggested something else, rather readily if he was honest.  
  
Put the potion on the grass after altering it just a bit, so it wouldn’t colour the grass directly. Wait for his brother, to cut the grass and feed his goats with it. Then, wait until the goats turned into varied colour. 

It had been tempting.

What they hadn't expected was for Aberforth to drone on and on about his day as he fed his beloved goats. They had to witness the whole thing, because with how much they modified the potion, they had no way of knowing when it would be efficient, and finally changed the goats’ coloration. And timing when it started was part of its test.  
Gellert looked almost regretful as the minutes dragged on, and he seemed ready to hex Aberforth, just for being boring, and leave it to this.  
Honestly Albus was not far behind. If he had to endure another: ‘and then of course I thought of you and cut you grass’, he wouldn’t be responsible of his action.

“We better hope it does.” Albus whispered back. Their shoulders were touching, as he laid next to him. He was surrounded by Gellert’s unique scent, enveloping him like a blanket. This was probably why he even said yes in the first place. He needed to built a better resistance when he was around Gellert if he wanted to stay clear-headed. “If I have to endure another one of his fit for nothing, I don’t know what I’m going to do.” His lips turned down at the thought.

Aberforth’s tantrums these days, were common.  
If it wasn’t about how he didn’t do something for Ariana, or how he did it badly, it was because of the time he spent with Gellert. His brother and their new neighbour had taken one long look at the other, and seemed to have disliked what they had seen.  
A sort of hatred at first sight, he thought with a roll of his eyes.

“He won’t annoy you if he knows what’s good for him.” Gellert gritted between a clenched jaw, annoyed as ever, when they talked about Aberforth.

“What do you mea-” he cut himself off, as one of Aberforth’s goats, who after some chewing on her freshly cut grass, was starting to turn yellow-ish. “Look, this is starting.” He grinned, eager.

Sure enough, another one began to turn into a pretty indigo, while her comrade next to her, was more leaning toward pink. It was advancing on them like a rainbow in the sky.

“Almost fourteen minutes.” Gellert pointed after checking the time with a Tempus, “Still shorter than a usual coloring potion.” He announced proudly, before taking in the mess he created raptly.

Albus hummed, tearing his eyes from the bright spectacle happening in Aberforth’s made-up farm. His brother was running and checking each goats, while opening and closing his mouth like a fish. He focused on Gellert instead. “Yes, I think the cut mandrake's leaves truly made a difference.”

Gellert smiled at him. His eyes weren’t leaving him now, not even when the sound of Aberforth’s cursing reached them. “I still think we would have won more minutes if we had added toad slime.” He agued, stubbornly.

“And I still maintain that it would only have shortened the effect.” Albus argued back, “It risked to fasten the whole potion too much.”

Gellert turned pensieve. “We should find a way to stabilize this, so the potion start earlier, but is efficient longer.”

Albus hummed, “Perhaps, if we added –”

“Pixies' dust.” Gellert and him finished at the same time. They smiled at each other.

“You!” Aberforth shouted having spotted them. He pointed his finger at them, raising it like a warning, “What did you do to my goats?!” He continued on the same volume, face red like, well, one of his goats, Albus barely fought down a laugh.

“This is our cue to leave, I believe.” Gellert said as he stood. Throwing caution into the wind, he sent one smug and satisfied smirk at Aberforth, who in answer, growled and took the fork he used to lift the hay with. He started to march toward them. 

Gellert grabbed Albus’ hand, who had barely stood up, before fleeing like a mad man in the direction of the fields. Albus somehow managed to keep up with him, as they passed house after house and almost collided with the few people who were walking down the road. They stopped their wild run into one of the fields near the woods, as Gellert abruptly lost his equilibrium and fell. Albus unprepared for it, went down along him with a yelp of surprise.

He landed on Gellert, who had fallen on his back. Their respiration caught, Gellert probably under his weight, Albus because his chest hit Gellert’s, the collision too unexpected, too sudden for him to have anticipated it. They stared at each other for a beat then, their breath loud into the tranquil afternoon; the red poppies' peaceful day seemingly only interrupted by them. The wind was still gently brushing through those fragile flowers when they bursted into uncontrollable laughers. They must look so childish, silly even, pranking his brother, and then running away like thieves, but Albus just felt free.  
He wished they could have gone further away.

“Did you see his face?” Gellert asked him, breathless, “God, I think one of his goat was vomit green.” he laughed harder, “Vomit green, Albus.”

“Disgusting.” he was smiling so wide, it was starting to hurt. But he found out he loved Gellert’s laugh some days ago, and was adamant to keep hearing it. “He’s going to be so mad.” He said, unconcerned for once as he rolled off Gellert.

With his back now on the ground, he could stare at the blue sky above, clear of any clouds. He thought that the earth was big but only had one sky. If he borrowed the broomstick he knew Bathilda hid in her attic, he could go anywhere. But he couldn’t, he wouldn’t, so this left him here, staring at his exit and not taking it. 

Gellert’s hand brushed his, and he was called back to the moment. “He always seems angry. But I don’t really want to talk about him.” He confessed. 

Gellert’s fingers entwined with his. Albus’s confused heart beated and beated. “What do you want to talk about?” He asked softly.

“Where would you go, if you could leave?” Gellert asked, curious and close. His hand was warm in his. Albus hadn’t known it had been something he had missed, and how could he, when he never had it? But he had missed it all the same; like when you realized how freezing the winter had been before the summer’s sun came back. “You said you had planned to visit Greece. Would you still go there?” He wondered.

“I,” he started. He took a shaky breath, overwhelmed by so little. Before Gellert, Albus had been so cold. He didn’t know if he should tell him this. He definitely shouldn’t think of it. Another exit he couldn’t take. “I guess. I mean,” he bit his lower lip, “I’ve planned this trip with Elphias. But, now, I,” he stammered, “I guess, it didn’t really matter, where I go.” he finally settled on, “As long as I go.” With you, he didn’t add. This would be saying too much, far too soon.

It would be better to not say anything else. Smarter to shut up now, while he still could. To not admit more than what he had already said.  
You can stare at the exit, but you cannot take it, he reminded himself as he drunk Gellert with his eyes. He couldn’t leave. Not then with Elphias then, and certainly not now, with Gellert.

Ariana needed him. She only had him. And Gellert was… not a good idea.  
Albus wasn’t sure they could afford another stab at the law. He had no idea how they managed to pass their mother’s death for an accident, but the less the Ministry of Magic looked at their way and investigated on their family, the better.

And despite his protest, Aberforth needed to finish his schooling. One year. After, Albus could leave Godric’s Hollow. Maybe.

Would Gellert still be in Godric’s Hollow after a year? He wondered. Gellert’s desire to set-off was obvious, he had never hidden it. But plans could change, so perhaps, he would still be there, perhaps, he would have been gone long before.  
There were just too many possibilities, and Albus didn’t know how to make the one he truly wanted happen.

Gellert smiled, “Then I hope you will find your way to anywhere. Who knows, you and I may end-up taking the same path.” He said, his hand’s grip on his tightening. A suggestion that sounded like a promise.

Albus’s heart hoped and hoped. He smiled back. “We may.”

*  
1900, April, Tuesday, 24th 

Albus wasn’t sure he liked this plan.  
First, he would rather roam inside a house than sit while someone stared at him. Second, the looks she casted upon him was unwanted.

“I’m glad you changed your mind.” She had told him when he came back into her shop the next day.

“It’s your talent that convinced me, Miss Tumer.” He had rarely said such a blatant lie, and knew this was only the beginning.

“Oh, please, call me Doriana.” She had insisted in a flirty smile.

Now, they were on the second floor on her house, into her little studio. It had a high window, which let the sun of the afternoon crept in. She had made some sketch, to ‘capture his figure’ before she had made him sat on a high stool, while she faced him with her brushes laid out, and a white canvas in which she was now meticulously applying colors on.  
She instruted him to relax, which was truthfully hard to do when knowing that your sister and best friend were currently breaking into the house, some floors above. He knew that Greety would have no trouble making them pass through the wards, but feared that she was going to insist on feeding them. He imagined her following aorund with cakes and sweets, and told himself that he wasn’t envious.  
  
It was only that he could use something sweet to lift his spirit right now.

Doriana was throwing furtive looks at him which somehow made him more tense than a full scrutinization would. He had dressed up with the best clothes he had packed in his suitcase for their ‘session’, because it would have been expected of him to do so for a portrait. He was wearing his navy blue three piece with a dark shirt because once Gellert commented that dark tones suited him. He thought Gellert’s own preferences for them had clouded his judgment, but still, the remark stayed with him.

The more her gaze drifted over him, the more he didn’t like their plan.

He had to let Fawkes in the Flamel’s care for the day, which he could tell his bird friend hated, but he dimmed his presence would be unwise. Fawkes didn’t like Doriana, and Albus would like to know what she was hidding before his phoenix decided to use his claws on her. (And honestly, if someone asked him how much galleons he wanted in exchange of Fawkes again, he might lose patience, and cursed them first, before leaving them to it.) 

“Tell me, do you always wished to be an artist?” He asked her, in an attempt to distract himself from her heavy looks.

“Yes.” she replied easely, “I have always been attracted to beauty. It’s so hard to find it nowdays.” she explained in a frown as she regarded her work. “Even harder to capture.”

Albus tilted his head as he mulled over her words, “I don’t agree. I think there is beauty to find everywhere.” his fingers drummed on his knees, “It’s in the colours of the clouds when the sun set. An unexpected flower blooming under a window. I believe even the more simple thing can be beautiful.”

She huffed a laugh. “You remind me of those Bohemians who are living nearby. What’s their slogan already? Ah yes. Freedom, Beauty and Love.”

“It seems like a noble cause.” He smiled, amused by their movement.

“I don’t know. Most of them are also really drunk too. Completely wasted on absinthe and elf wine. They party every nights in the higher streets of Montmatre. They regroup themselves in a pub near the Muggle ‘Moulin Rouge’. I heard they accept the most decadent thing there.” she said distracted as she worked. “This is not helping the image of artists."

“Does it truly matter?” Albus asked curious.

“Sometimes it does.” she said gravely. “Take my father for exemple: he abhorred the idea of me being a painter because he thought all artists were depraved.” She told him harshly, like some old offence that hadn’t been pardoned.

“Yet, you became one.” he said cautiously, before wondering, hopeful, “Did he change his mind?” 

“No.” she replied shortly, “Would you like some tea to help you relax?” Doriana offered, changing subject.

“Yes.” he gladly accepted, “I’m sorry, this is my first time sitting for a protrait.” This was maybe the only truthful thing he told her this afternoon.

She smiled, a little sharply, and Albus wished that he could dive into her mind and see what was inside. But she could feel it, Albus was very skilled but this was still a risk, and then they would never know anything. So when she stood and served him tea, he took it, and hoped this session wouldn’t be for naught.  
  
That she might have slipped something in his drink, never crossed his mind.

*  
“Not hungry?” Greety asked them, for the fourth time. Her voice was starting to waver.

“No?” Elphias was beginning to crack under her big watery eyes.

“We’re on a mission.” Ariana tried to stay firm as well, refusing to meet her pleading looks. “A rescue mission. We can’t eat now.”

“Miss can!” she objected, taking on her words literally, “Miss should. Miss is so small!”

She thought it was rich coming for someone so petite. “I’m not small.” She defended in a frown, her hands coming to rest on her hips as she gazed down (down!) at the house-elf. Honestly.

“Please, keep your voice down.” Elphias pleaded with Greety, “We don’t want to be heard.”

She sniffed, “Only master Albus like Greety.” she mourned, “Master Albus always eat Greety cake.”

Ariana and Elphias exchanged an unsurpised look before resuming their exploration.  
The elf continued to follow them as they stepped into the corridor, still sniffing. They tried a first door that lead to a bedroom and after a quick Revelio from Elphias, it showed nothing out of the ordinary. They still probed through her wardrobe in search of clues, and found a surprising amount of clothes of various style and size. Probably for her paintings. Ariana heard that some like to dress up with theatrical costumes, yet Elphias frowned.

“This is very strange.” he stated, “The whole wardrobe seems to have been Charmed.” He precised as he contemplated the wood curiously.

Then something caught their eyes. Elphias’s wand came toward it and they barely made out the form of a bird before it shrieked, high and piercing. Ariana grimaced as she hastly put her hands to cover her ears. The sound was awful, a chilling cry that made her gritted her teeth.

Elphias quickly casted a Silencio. “A barn owl.” he said, gesturing to the bird almost growling in frustration at the bar of her cage. “They’re known for their screams.” He explained.

Ariana took a closer look at the petite owl, pursing her lips in thought. “I think Albus told me that Gellert got a brown and white owl.” she told him, “Just like her.”

Greety came forward and took a look at the animal. “This, Young Master’s owl.” she assured in a rapid series of nods, “Good owl, unlike Master Albus’s one.”

“Fawkes isn’t a owl.” Elphias pointed in frown, before he left to the corridor, checking if the noises they made had attracted unwanted attention.

“Greety doesn’t care!” she exclamed, discretion seemed to be a foreign concept to her. Ariana couldn’t believe she had been worried about the sound her little heel could make against the floor at first. Greety was proving to be a far more noisy menace. “Greety doesn’t want burnt furniture anymore!” she said, upset. She sniffed audibly before asking to Ariana in a pleading tone, “Biscuits?”

“No.” Ariana replied categoric, as she crossed her arms over her chest. She wasn’t going to be moved by a (little!) house-elf. Nope. She was stronger than this. No matter how big and watery Greety’s eyes could become.

Elphias came back into the room, before Ariana’s resolve could be tested further. He seemed appeased that no one had come barge in. “At least, we know that we’re on the right track now.” He crouched to free the owl.

“Shall you let her out?” she asked, worriedly taking a good step away from the wardrobe. “We can’t afford too much disturbance.” And the owl seemed to possess a nasty temper, she didn’t add. Ariana would rather have a cage between her and the bird’s sharp claw.

“As Gellert’s owl, she might guide us to him.” Elphias explained. “They are truly smart creature.” He smiled, as the owl hopped, or rather stomped, outside, shooting them a sour look.

She fluttered her wings a bit as if testing them, before she took off. They went after her, as quick and silent as they could, with Greety, the depressed house-elf, trailing after them.  
They stopped their chase to a closed door.

“Alright.” Elphias whispered, almost out of breath. The owl had certainly not spared them. Couldn’t she have waited for them a bit? Ariana sent an annoyed glance at her. She was serenely cleaning her feathers, and generally ignoring them. “I was starting to think we’ve been paranoid.” he pointed his wand to the keyhole. “Alohomora.” He intoned softly.

The door opened in a loud screech that made Ariana and Elphias wince. Greety chosed this moment to blow her nose.  
Audibly. 

“Greety!” Ariana reprimanded in a low hiss.

She blinked, hopeful, at her, “Miss want a biscuit?” She presented to them a metallic box full of them. It seemed as if the biscuits were trying to escape from it.

“Merlin, we have to buy her silence.” Elphias breathed in realization, “Give me one and let’s be done with this.” He said as he tended his hand.

Greety smiled in triumph and handed him a large round biscuit. Maybe the biggest Ariana ever seen. Then she gazed at Ariana, expectant. She huffed, “Fine.” She tended her palm for a biscuit as well.

She bit into it and followed Elphias who had entered the dark room with the help of a Lumos. She chewed on her biscuit and tasted orange, one of her favorite flavor. She had to admit that it was good, just not really the place for it. She began to worry about the crumbs they were leaving behind.  
She squinted to see what was stored inside the room, it seemed to be even more artwork.

“There is something wrong about these.” Elphias declared. “I don’t know what, but even Albus admitted to me last night that he felt something off about the canvases exposed downstairs.” He pointed the tip of his lighted wand to one. “I just can’t tell what.” He crouched next to one in concentration.

Ariana looked more closely, but without magic, she felt nothing out of place. She wandered around the room as she continued to bit into her biscuit. With the door left open, some light from the corridor was coming inside, and while she couldn’t see the far end of the room, what was next to the door was visible for her. She swept over the canvases rapidely, meanwhile Gellert’s supposed owl simply refused to enter inside. The bird put her face into Greety’s biscuits box greedily. Ariana made a moue. She truly hoped that they hadn’t followed the owl for nothing.  
Her eyes went from painting to another, before going back to one in particular. She took a huge step back and dropped her biscuit on the floor in her haste. It fell and broke into two as it hit the ground. She put her hands on her mouth in order to not scream.

“Miss?” Greety asked, “Is biscuit not good?” She worried, her lips wobbling.

Elphias came closer, “What is this?”

Ariana slowly let go of her mouth to point silently at the picture that caught her eyes. “I think I found them.” She said, shaking a bit, in a hushed voice.

Elphias’s eyes followed her finger and widen. “Bloody hell.” his breath caught. “We let Albus with her!” He realized in panic. He began to leave the room.

“Wait!” she grabbed his forearm to stop him, and let go just as fast, afraid to have overstepped some boundary. “We can’t let them like this!”

“But Albus is downstairs with a psycho!” Elphias argued agitated. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. “I can’t be at two places at the same time. First Albus, then the others.”

“No!” she insisted, forgetting to be discreet completely. “She will know if you go downstairs, and we may not have the opportunity to be here again.”

“We could still call the Aurors!”

“Would they believe us?” she prompted, “What proof do we have?”

Elphias opened and closed his mouth. He paced, undecided, before asking: “What do you suggest?”

“You free everyone.” because she couldn’t, not without wand nor magic, “And Greety and me go to check if Albus is alright downstairs.” It was her fault after all if Albus was with a crazy woman. She was the one to suggest this plan.

_Please don’t be hurt, please don’t be hurt _, she chanted. Not because of me, not again.__

____

____

Elphias was clearly torn, but conceded that her arguments were sound. “But what if Albus is not alright?” He demanded, concerned for his friend.

Ariana pursed her lips in thought. She turned to Greety. “Do you have something I could hit someone with?”

*  
Albus began to feel light headed after two sip. The room’s egdes became blurry, and the light from the high window too blinding.

“Oh. You drugged me.” he realized weakly.

He rarely felt this offenced. As an Englishman, there were little things more insulting than this.  
One didn’t touch tea. Was nothing sacred anymore?

He saw Doriana coming closer to him. He tried to stand up, in order to put as much distance as he could between her and him, but his legs were uncooperative and his head was swaying too much. She smiled like a cat who had just trapped a mouse. He searched for his wand, his fingers trying to close around it in vain. They were as lax as the rest of him. She seemed to expect this reaction, and took his wand for herself. She studied it, appraising.

“It’s a pretty wand, you have there.” she turned it into her hand, as if testing it, and he wished he could curse her, but even wandless magic seemed to be out of reach. He just couldn’t concentrate on anything, not with the vertigo he was feeling, and how slow his mind felt. Staying upright on the stool he was seated on was almost too much work already. “It’s such a pity, you know.” she told him in a velvet voice, “I truly wanted to paint you.” She admitted, pained.

“What did you gave to me?” He slurred, blinking his eyes in rapid succession. He truly didn’t want to fall asleep right now, but his body seemed to have others ideas.

“It’s a modified Sleeping Draught. It suppress magic during a short time and make you feel all sleepy. It worked wonders on your friends as well.” she grinned and pointed the tip of his wand against his neck. She dug it painfully into his skin and he let out a hiss of pain. Forgot the curse, he was going to put her dress on fire as soon as the opportunity arose. “Especially on the man. You see, the more powerful a wizard is, the more well this potion works.” she explained patiently, releasing the pressure she put on his neck, “Soon, you will fall aspleep, and I will get rid of you. Like I did with the others.”

He made a valiant tentative as standing up, and almost crashed on the floor. Only his tight grip on the nearest piece of furniture saved him from this fate. He scanned the room, trying to decide where to go. He was near the windows, but in his state he would rather not climb it, and the door seemed so far away from him.

“My friends, what did you with them?” he hoped that making her talk would give enough time for his magic to fight the effect of this potion. “Where are they?” 

She bristled as if even the memory angered her still. She went near the door, where she rummaged through a chest of drawers. “They came to me and asked about my father.” she spat, and he saw her put his wand into one of the shelf. Safe-keeping, he thought in displeasure, “I hated him. He was a waste of a man.” she explained, “They wanted something he used to have, I could tell. And there were only one thing he ever owned that had some value.” she said, taking another wand out, a familiar looking one. “This old thing, that cloak. It was my mother’s originally, but after she passed away, he became completely obsessed with it. Jane of Arc knew I despised it at least as fiercely as he liked it.”

“I don’t understand…” Albus tried to follow her words with some difficulty. Everything was so... flat and nothing seemed to make sense anymore. “What did you do of them?” He repeated.

“You truly don’t get it, do you?” she laughed madly, coming closer once again. “They were like you, probing at my shop. And curious. Too curious.” Doriana said, “So I took care of them before they could dig deeper. I offered them tea like I did with you. So we could talk, you know?” her smile became malicious, “I never even knew the girl was a Rosier before I read it on the news. It’s regrettable, I certainly never wanted all this spotlight. But the Aurors will never find them where they are now.” she leaned to whisper in his ear, and he grimaced at the proximity, “You liked my work don’t you? Well, your friends did too.” she divulged in a hush, “So much, that I put them on it.” Albus’s breath caught, “They were good looking, and made such perfect models.”

Albus’s world was starting to waver dangerously. His eyes shutted and shutted irresistibly. Opening them was such a hardship… He was starting to forget why he even wanted to fight it.

He saw Doriana drew Gellert’s wand at him, and he mentally hoped that this would blow up to her face. She spinned it elegantly, the wand sparkling on its tip for a while, before it faded into a hue. She blinked, incredulous at him when nothing happened. He gave her the most bored look he could manage under this circumstance.  
  
She couldn’t harm him, not with this wand. The blood pact prevented it. Not that he was going to tell her. Instead, he watched her as she waved it again, as if it would make Gellert’s wand more cooperative. It only resulted in making her trip, and she fell into her bottom. He resisted the urge to laugh, poorly, but it soon transformed into a yawn.  
Merlin, he was so tired…

He barely realized that she had stood back, grumbling. She pointed the wand back toward him and he saw her grit her teeth in anger, but before she could cast anything more, a ‘bang!’ echoed into the room. The sound was so loud, it made his ears ring.  
He watched Doriana’s eyes widen briefly before she fell, all her weight drumped unto the floor, unsconsious and unmoving.  
That fall had looked painful, he thought without a ounce of pity for her. At the place where Miss Tumer was standing just seconds prior, was Ariana, with an impressive frying pan between her fingers.

He blinked some more, trying to chase the sleep away. “Huh.” Was he hallucinating?

“Albus!” Ariana crouched next to him and patted his cheek gently, still holding the pan into her other hand. Albus eyed it with a tired curiosity. "Are you ok?” She inquired worried.

He hummed, off-key, in affirmative. “Let’s never tell this to Aberforth.” He instructed before passing out.


	4. Chapter 4

Albus's eyes fluttered open.

He stirred from his resting position, feeling as if the world was made of cotton, making him sluggish and unwilling to rise. He forced himself to sit up still, and noticed that he had been laying on a comfortable couch instead of the floor. A much appreciated upgrade.  
Once settled, he realized he was still in Doriana's studio, he could spot her brushes and her notebook laying around, though the later seemed to have suffered some damage. Following the paper's destruction, he found Gellert easely. With his back turned to him, he was contemplating the view from the open window, looking down at the street below. 

He seemed _fine _from what he could see, and Albus felt his worries being appeased.__

____

__Giselle was not far from her master. The petite owl was digging inside a metallic box full of biscuits, at least she was until Gellert caught her on the act, and shoo'ed her out. He told her to go find Fawkes and stay with him, because unlike him, she wasn't going to rise back from the dead after she overdosed herself on sugar. Her owl eyes had narrowed dangerously, before she left off throught the window with an affronted air.  
__

____

____

The door of the studio had been left open, many voices were coming from adjacent rooms, which surprised him. The house seemed to be far more clustered than when he entered it. He thought he recognized Elphias's intonations.  
Lastly, he took in Doriana's slumped form. The witch was out of it, but someone had deemed necessary to tie her into a chair. Albus could guess who.

"So," he started, his voice sounding weak to his own ears. He frowned and continued in what he hoped was a more firmly tone, "I take that Elphias and Ariana found the two of you?" 

Gellert's head turned quickly toward him, all but dropping his viewing as he hastly came to sit besides him, "God, Albus, are you alright?" He urgently asked, not waiting for a reply before he checked on him with his hands and eyes, as if he was cataloging the eventuals differences between now and the last time they had seen each other. 

__One of his hands touched his flank and it tickled, making him smile even as he tried to get away from it. "I'm alright." he assured him. He took Gellert's wandering hands into his, "I believe I'm the one who should ask you this."_ _

__

__"I'm fine." Gellert grimaced though, "Just fed up. Can't believe she put me into frames." He muttered darkly._ _

__

__"She put you into what?" He asked, interrogative and offenced at the same time._ _

__

__"Into frames." he repeated. At Albus incredulous look he added, "Her paintings are full of real people that had the misfortune to cross her path. Turned out, her real talent wasn't artistic." he said the last word with such sacarm, it was clear how little he thought of her 'art'.__

__

__He hummed thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it, I think she talked about it." She did say something about Vinda and Gellert being good models, didn't she? Albus scratched his head, trying to recall her exact words._ _

__

__"Did she now?" Gellert asked in a snort, "Elphias," he continued, his accent just a tad more pronouced, a sure sign of his irritation, "Got us out and is freeing the others from their painted prison." he told him, "Vinda is giving the wands back. Which makes me think..." He trailed as he searched inside his long coat and got out Albus's wand._ _

__

__He took it with reverence. He made it twirl between his fingers, the black wood responding immediately, its tips ligtning up in delight. (And what was with people lately, stealing his wand? He thought with a wave of annoyance. First, Aberforth last summer, and now her? Didn't they have theirs? No more wand stealing, Albus swore.)_ _

____

____

"Thank you." he told him in a small smile. He cupped his jaw with one hand and leaned his forehead against his. "I-"

"I-" Gellert started at the same time.

"I can’t believe it. My tea. She drugged my tea.” Vinda's voice rang, making the two of them startled in tandem.

Albus sighed in defeat when it became clear that the others were hot on her heels and coming right here. Timing, he mused in an almost pout.

Gellert landed a furtive kiss on his hand. "Later." He promised him, before taking back his position at the window, and fixing Miss Doriana Tumer with an untrustful glare.

Vinda made her entrance into the studio seconds later, the blue dress of her uniform moving along her quick steps. Elphias was not far behind her. Meanwhile, Ariana was still clutching, in a steady grip, a frying pan, so he guessed this part hadn't been an hallucination after all. Albus risked a glance into the next room, and he widen his eyes, stupefied.  
  
Just how many persons did Doriana abducted exactly?

He mulled over it as he Summoned the biscuits' box to him. Albus deemed he deserved it, and he needed sugar if he wanted to fully wake up. He could feel the effects of the potion lingering, dimming, but still like an itch on his skin, something he had yet to fully shake off.

Elphias slumped on the couch, next to him, unknowingly taking Gellert's previous place. “I’ve performed thirty Finite Incantatem.” he said to him, “At least. I’m exhausted.”

Albus nodded slowly, mindful of his throbbing head, “Thank you. You’re the best friend someone could ever wish to have.” He proposed a biscuit to him.

Elphias shrugged, “Why not.” he bit into one. He chewed a bit on it, before saying, "You know, it's truly upsetting to think that she trapped all these people..."

"But why would she do this?" Ariana asked, as she sat on the other side of the couch, sounding genuily perplexed.

"Because she's psychotic?" Elphias sumised. As if knowing they were talking about her, Doriana's body moved, just a slight thing, but it made them pause. Gellert pointed his wand at her without hesitation, but she went back into slumber, and they resumed their conversation.

"She has clear and disturbing father's issue." Vinda told them most seriously as she started to pace the room. She seemed unharmed, if restless. Maybe her skin was a shade too pale, but he guessed this was what happened when one didn't see the sun for a week.

For now, Albus was happy to take those explaination. But he remembered Doriana’s words about beauty and how hard it was to find, and after a quick look at her victims…  
Well, they weren’t hard on the eyes.  
It seemed as if she literally decided to ‘capture’ beauty inside her canvases instead of only recreating it.  
Unfortunately, the Exposition must have given Doriana’s trapping tendencies a wider window, as more people visited her shop. But the increasing disparitions could only attract the Aurors’ attention, and in turned, made her a bit paranoid. It must have been why she had been so quick to trap Gellert and Vinda when they came to question her. He supposed, the fact that, the questions they asked, annoyed her, mustn't have helped.

Albus thought they might just have resolved the whole missing cases happening these last few months in Paris.

"Are you alright?" his sister wondered, her question carrying a worried note. "You're not hurt, are you?"

Gellert's gaze was burning an hole into his skull, daring him to lie. "I'm not hurt." he soothed, "Just a bit sleepy, that's all."

"What did she give you?" Elphias asked then, and Albus knew he had to end this before their worries could ricochet.

"Some Sleeping Draught." He hastly replied. Ariana made a guilty face, so he decided to distract her by giving her the biscuits' box.

Vinda made a frustrated noise. "Yes, I do remember feeling tired. Next thing I knew, I was inside her dark closet and stuck." Her clear eyes sent daggers at Miss Tumer's silhouette.

Sounds of cups clinking together came to them. Albus observed in amazement as Greety busied herself, going back and forth in between rooms, with a bounce in her steps. She was, clearly, having the time of her elf life, offering drinks and food at the recently freed wizards and witches, her flying teapot working overtime to satisfy everybody. 

"Don't you want to sit for a bit?" Elphias proposed to Vinda who seemed unable to stop pacing.

"No." she declined quickly. “I don’t think you realize the gravity of the situation,” Vinda continued, agitated, “I missed a week of my life, a school free one at that, and I’m not sure if I could ever trust tea again.” she resumed, “She better not be dead.” She wished darkly as she glared at her limp form.

“She’s not.” Gellert confirmed readily. "Yet."

“Miss want tea?” Greety asked Vinda, as she made her way into the room with her flying teapot, completely uncaring of the threats they were making on Doriana's life.

Vinda seemed to debate within herself before she joined them on the couch. “Yes. Do give me some, please.”

The flying teapot came next to her and served her a cup.

“What happened to ‘I will never trust tea again’?” Gellert asked unimpressed. The teapot came toward him as well, nagging at him, but he batted it away.

Vinda tasted her drink before answering, “I decided that labouring ill thoughts over tea will get me nowhere. I love tea, why punish myself?” she took another sip, “And any lingering trauma will be put at ease when Miss Doriana Tumer is, herself, put into chateau d’If.”

“Chateau d’If?” Ariana wondered, leaning forward to catch Vinda’s eyes.

“The french’s prison for wizards.” Vinda clarified as she leaned too.

Gellert frowned at them all. “This is terribly unprofessional.” he noted, still having Doriana at wandpoint. “We’re interrogating her, not having a tea party.” He reprimanded.

“Another ‘bonding’ session.” Elphias breathed lowly into his cup so Gellert couldn’t hear him. 

Albus frowned briefly at this and mentally noted to ask Elphias about it. “I’m starting to think he wanted to be Auror.” He cheerfully announced instead as he bit into his biscuit.

“How embarrassing.” Vinda commented.

“I’m sure you could still apply if you wished to!” Ariana cheered.

Gellert regarded them flatly. “A little help, maybe?” He drawled flatly, showing Miss Tumer with a move of his wand.

“I just lived a very traumatic experience, Gellert.” Vinda deadpanned.

“You seem to… got this.” Elphia remarked, uneasy.

“I almost lived a very traumatic experience, Gellert.” Albus recited dutifully.

“I can hit her again, if you want?” Ariana proposed, showing off her pan.

“This, bad frying pan, Young Master,” Greety warned Gellert, “Always sticking.” She mumbled before tending a basket of pastries upward.

Gellert regarded it dully. “No.” He told her bluntly. Her big eyes became tearful.

“Oh! I want these!” A witch happily exclamed.

Vinda frowned at her, “Us first. Give me one please.”

Soon, it was to who would put their hands on the baked goods first. They won, for Greety was with them, and a Vinda who wanted something was impressive. 

“Why won’t they just leave?" Gellert wondered moodily, looking at the wizards who seemed in no hurry to leave. "They're free now, what are they waiting for? A souvenir?" his voice carried way past the studio, making heads turned toward him. "You’re all going to be fat.” he predicted at them all, and as loud as he could, making some pause in their chewing. “So fat.” He finished in a very fatalistic manner. 

“So bitter.” Albus gently countered, “A little bit of sugar would mellow you.” The nearest wizards made sounds of agreements.

“This is ridiculous.” Gellert glowered at the poor victims of Doriana, making them scatter away from the studio, to escape his ire.

“So is having her at wand point, after you had properly bound her. She’s not even awake yet.” Vinda pointed, "Good job for hitting her, by the way.” She said to Ariana.

“Yeah, this was amazing!” Elphias added.

“Thank you.” Ariana blushed, and tried to hide it behind her palms.

A groan made them all hush. Doriana Tumer was waking up, it seemed. Albus didn’t know if he wished for her to have a head trauma or not. Maybe just a little one.

Gellert’s focus turned on her entirely. “Hello.” he told her, with a sharp grin, “Remember me?” by the way she startled back, Albus would say she did. “Excellent.” Gellert continued, “Because I want to know what you did with your father’s invisibility cloak.” 

She grimaced, either at the ropes encircling her, or at the mention of her father.

“Listen,” Vinda put her cup down the low table in a soft click, “You’re going to end up in prison either way. Someone probably called the Aurors already. So give us what we want, or even the prison won’t save you.” she threatened calmly, “I’m a Rosier and you just abducted me. When my father, who works in le Ministère de la Magie, learns of it, what do you think will happen?” she asked Doriana, “I’m his little flower, you see.” She divulged, unashamed.

“He does give a reward for you.” Albus remembered suddenly.

“Really?” Gellert perked up, “How much?”

Albus sent him a stern look, “Gellert.”

“What?” He asked innocently.

“It must be a high price.” Vinda thought out loud, “I’m not cheap. And my father wished for me to meet his new lover. He was very excited about it.” She raised one elegant eyebrow at their hostage, clearly waiting.

He heard Doriana glup. “I sold it. Last year. I needed the money.”

Gellert tsk’d her. “To whom?” Albus asked.

“To my uncle. He asked me for it, and I was too happy to get rid of it. He wanted to offer the cloak to his grandson.” she explained, “He just turned seventeen last December.”

“What’s the grandson’s name?” Gellert questionned, giving her a warning look when she hesitated.

“Henry Potter.” she divulged after darting her eyes back and forth between Gellert’s wand and Vinda unimpressed face, “He’s in his last year, in Hogwarts.”

They didn’t have the time to process this information fully as sounds of agitation came to them.

“La police!” Someone cried in joy.

“Aurors.” Vinda translated. “I would rather not stay there.”

“Everyone hold hands please.” Elphias instructed. They did as told, Vinda promptly grabbing Gellert, even as he narrowed his eyes when he saw Albus’s hand into Elphias. They Disapparated right before the Aurors came into the room, Greety following after them, vanishing into a pop.

*  
They landed near the Place Cachée, where Albus tried to convince Greety to go back to Nurmengard.

“Emotional blackmail.” Gellert whispered, as Greety lips started to tremble after they refused her pastries.

They had to insist some more (and to take her pastries) before she agreed to leave. After this, they decided to bring Vinda to her house to soothe her father’s worries.  
If someone noticed Gellert’s hand seeking his on their way there, and holding it a bit too tightly, no one made note of it.

*  
The Rosier’s mansion or _hotel particulier _as Vinda called it, was situated in a little street.  
It had a beautiful Haussmanian's façade, and a tall double royal blue door. With Vinda with them, they entered easely, but Albus felt the strong wards buzzing on his skin as they passed it.  
It opened to a yard, where in its center stood a old cherry tree, its pale rosy petals falling like confetti onto the ground each time a breeze brushed the fragil flowers. There was, obviously, a rose-tree climbing on the sandy stone of the house’s exterior walls, their deep black flowers, running past the second floor.__

____

____

“One of my ancestor created this variety." Vinda told him when she saw his eyes lingered on it, "She called it the 'Hades' rose', because if you cut one, it wilt right away. She still made bouquets out of it, and even managed to sell them. It soon became very popular." she explained, "She made for herself a little fortune.” she hummed in appreciation before concluding, “We have a wicked sense of affair in my family.”

It was one of her house-elves who noticed her arrival first. He wept in joy when he saw her, before disappearing just as quickly as he went to alert his Master. His cries attracted the others house-elves and they fussed over her as they guided them all into a large sitting room.  
They looked around, a bit intimidated, except for Gellert who seemed almost at home inside this luxurious place. The ceiling got those mouldings Albus saw at the Flamel, the honey parquet floor creaked when they walked on it, and the fireplace was made in pink marble. The rest of the room was finely decorated, with rich furnitures. Strangely, it was the simple Singing Fern, thankfully silent for the moment, resting into a pot at the center of a table which catched his eyes. Ariana took notice of it as well.

“Say,” she started, “doesn’t it look just like one of Aun-”

“Oh ma petite fleur!” a man rushed into the room, and gathered Vinda into his arms. He was tall, with dark hair, with some grey into them, and a fine moustache. He was wearing a sophisticated costume, impeccable despite the distress he seemed to be in, “J’étais tellement inquiet.” He said, squeezing her even more.

“I can’t breath, Papa.” She mumbled into his waistcoat.

“Oh, sorry.” he released her a bit, without letting go of her completely, “I wouldn’t want you to asphyxiate. This will be too mundane.” He laughed, patting her hair gently.

Vinda nodded, solemn. Elphias and Ariana shared a look while Albus began to grasp that their sense of affair wasn't the only thing that was wicked. He was so focused on them, he missed the second person coming into the room. Gellert didn't.

“Oooh.” he whispered. “Awkward.”

Curious, Albus gazed at the newcomer. And stared. The newcomer stared back. Ariana silently gaped as she stared too.

“The world is a small place.” Elphias breathed.

“Too small.” Gellert stared at Elphias meaningfully. Elphias took a good step back, away from him.

“Albus, Ariana,” Honoria began, clearly ill at ease. She fiddled with her bright fiery hair, as if to put them back into place, “Weren’t you supposed to be in Egypt?”

“Weren’t you supposed to be in England?” Albus countered.

They shared a look, assessing the other. “I’m an adult.” she stated. “I don’t have to justify myself.” It sounded like she was trying to justify something still.

“I’m an adult too.” Albus told her in a calm smile.

She regarded Ariana. “I’m… surrounded by adults?” His sister said in a wince.

Honoria sighed. “Fine. I may have taken the opportunty of Ariana’s absence to visit my… huh. Significant other.” she quickly explained, “And you?”

“We may have taken the opportunity to visit some friends in Paris.” Albus divulged back.

Honoria narrowed her eyes as she gazed at Gellert, Elphias and Vinda, still being pampered by her father. “You didn’t do anything dangerous, did you?”

“No.” the lie fell from his lips with ease. Maybe Aberforth had been right, he should have been a Slytherin, “It’s the Aurors who found Vinda. We merely made sure that she went home safely.”

She narrowed her eyes further, and Albus was abruptly reminded that she used to be a Herbology’s professor at Beauxbâtons. She certainly had the air of one right now. “Is that right?” She asked Ariana, the most likely to slip the truth between the two.

But Ariana made big trusting eyes at her and nodded rapidly, “Sure.”

She hummed, not exactly convinced. Gellert leaned over him, “What did you just give the Aurors all the credit?” he asked him in a hushed tone, “I don’t want them to have the reward.”

“It’s better than having them on our back.” Albus whispered back. The less everyone knew of their involvement the better. Albus certainly didn’t wish to be questionned by them. Gellert looked disappointed. 

“Where’s my manners?” Vinda’s father shook his head in quiet self reprimand, as he came over them. “I’m Armand Rosier, and it’s a pleasure to have you all here.” he told them, “Are you Vinda’s friends?” He asked them, curious now.

“Yes.” Gellert’s answer was sure and left no room for argurments.

Someone didn’t want to take over Europe alone, Albus thought, amused, despite his best judgement.

“Yes, we are.” because, he guessed that after all of this, they were. “I’m Albus Dumbledore.” He presented himself, Armand Rosier shook his hand in enthusiasm.

“Ariana Dumbledore.” His sister shyly said as she did a little bow. 

“How cute.” Armand cooed.

“Gellert Grindelwald.” Gellert intoduction was precise and short. He nodded in greeting, hands folded behind his back.

“Elphias Doge.” He offered his hand to shake readily. 

“Thank you for helping my daughter, even if it was only to walk her home.” he told the four of them. He hadn’t let go of Vinda for a second ever since he immobilized her into his arms. He seemed unwilling to. He then turned to Honoria, “I didn’t think I would meet your nephew and niece quite like this.” he smiled, “Ma petite fleur, let me present you to Honoria. Honoria, this is Vinda, my daughter.” Vinda’s father said exuberantly. His Aunt and Vinda half bowed to each other in greeting. “I wished the circumstances of this meeting were better.” he sighed dramatically, and patted Vinda’s hair some more. “But I wanted the two of you to meet since January.”

Honoria laughed, “Now, I know you’re lying." she smiled widely, apparently happy to have caught him in the act, "For we’ve met during new year.”

“I am not.” Armand took her hand in a flourish movement and dropped a kiss to it, entrapping Vinda between them in the process. “For I have wanted to shout out how much I loved you since day one.”

Honoria blushed as she giggled. Vinda made a face that suggested she wanted out. Gellert and Ariana grimaced in tandem.

“Gross.” His sister mumbled, making a gaging face, proving that spending too many hours in Aberforth’s compagny wasn’t without damage.

Gellert agreed. “So needy.”

“There’s some things I don’t wanna know.” Elphias added in a shudder.

“They’re cute.” Albus said around a smile, just to see the horror drawing on the three others’s faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Château d'if is the prison in the Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas (and it _really _was a prison, the fortress is situated near Marseille).  
>  Doriana and her paintings are a reference to The Portrait of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde (some of you noticed it already 😉).  
> Last, an Universal Exposition was truly held in Paris, between April and August 1900.  
> Thank you for coming to my "culture minute" 😅__  
> Also: j'étais tellement inquiet > I was so worried  
> Ma petite fleur > my little flower
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chap ^^


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your feedback 💜

Vinda half bullied her father to let Ariana stayed the night at their house, citing that she lived a ‘very traumatic experience’. Mister Rosier readily agreed, especially she supposed, given Ariana’s connection with Honoria. Meanwhile, the three boys had gone back to the Flamel, Albus wanted Gellert to meet them, Ariana guessed, and Elphias had seemed content to follow.

It must be one of the first time Ariana was left to her own device, so to speak, without her mother or one her brothers nearby.

Well, her Aunt was here, which was actually the embarrassing part. Armand and her were just so taken by each other. Meanwhile, Ariana was the unwilling witness of this romantic display, seated as she was, on one of the flourish furniture of the Rosier's mansion. She mused that she should have fled when she still could. After all, even Vinda had taken her leave some minutes prior, by saying that she wished to change clothes. Ariana was waiting for her return ever since, wondering if the other girl hadn't found the perfect excuse.

"Oh, Armand, you shouldn't have!" Honoria exclamed in delight in the other side of the room, at - and Ariana could hardly believe her eyes - the wilted bouquet Vinda's father was gifting her. It looked depressing, yet her Aunt's face was lightning up in pure happiness. Ariana would never understand adults.

"He's really enamored with your Aunt." Vinda suddently commented. Ariana jumped into her seat, not having expected her to be back so soon. Vinda was watching the couple from afar, with a thoughtful expression. She was now wearing a beautiful emerald dress. Ariana spared a thought for the simple little rosy thing she put this morning. There was, clearly, no comparison possible between the two.

"You're fast." she blurted. As Vinda regarded her curiously, she precised, "I mean, you changed rapidly."

"Or not rapidly enough." she sighed, “To think I had to wear my uniform for five days straight.” Vinda made a moue of displeasure, “I must have look awful.”

“That’s not true!” Ariana leaped to reassure her, and Vinda’s sharp look settled on her again, “I mean, it looked good on you.” She finished awkwardly, playing with her hands nervously. She never learnt what to do with someone attention when she finally got it.

Vinda seemed to consider something. "Do you want to try it?” She asked her.

“Wh-what?” She spluttered.

“My uniform. I think it would look good on you too. But since this is an hypothesis, we need to confirm it.” She explained in nod, satisfied with her reasoning.

“Bu-but.” She started, searching for counter arguments.

"Or would you rather stay with them?" Vinda continued, pointing at the couple showering themselves with sweets words. Ariana grimaced and she smiled. “This way.” she told her as she all but guided her by the arm.

*  
Pernelle, when she saw Elphias and him came back with Gellert in tow, had once again catched Albus’ eyes meaningfully, who in turn, nodded shyly. She beamed at him proudly.

“Welcome back.” the witch smiled widely, “I’m Pernelle Flamel.” she presented herself to Gellert, “I’m so glad to meet you.” She almost squealed. Albus was sure his cheeks would never be pale again, and he gazed at the floor in hope it would shallow him.  
It didn’t.

“Gellert Grindelwald. I’m… glad too.” He told her, hesitant, faced to such clear enthusiasm.

She giggled, not deterred. “Come inside, you have to meet my husband.” she said, “Nicolas! We have guests! Come down!” she shouted in the stairs. She seemed to take the following crashing sounds upstairs for a reply. “He’s coming.” she assured them brightly. “Oh! And it’s almost time for diner!” she barely breathed between each words, “It’s perfect, we’ll eat together!” She exclamed before disapearing into the kitchen.

“She’s very excitable.” Gellert remarked with a quirk of eyebrow.

“She wasn’t yesterday.” Elphias told him, visibly perplexed, “I even thought she was a bit down.”

Albus forced himself to smile, instead of the grimace he wanted to make. “I’m sure she’s only happy to have someone to treat diner to.” a cacophony of plates was heard from the kitchen. He coughed, a vain try to cover the sounds. “Nicolas told me she’s an accomplished cook?”

*  
Vinda’s bedroom was huge. She had a four-poster bed with bed tables at each side. There were a dressing-table with roses sculpted into the wood. It had three little oval mirrors, and nearby, there was a neat desk with shelves for books. There was another foot tall mirror by the corner, next to a wardrobe.  
Everything was just so pretty and elegant. Even the bedding, which she was sure, must be expensive. They sure looked like, with how soft they seemed to be.  


“I knew it. It looks good on you.” Vinda confirmed as she inspected Ariana.

Ariana looked back at her reflection in the tall mirror, taking in the pale blue dress swinging gently as she moved closer to the glass. Vinda insisted on the hat too, so Ariana found herself wearing the complete panoply of a Beauxbâtons’s student. She studied herself, the way Vinda had brushed her blond hair into a ponytail and how the fluid cape hugged her shoulders before closing up in the front with a bowknot, to the way the dress fell on her gently.  
She was not sure to know the person looking back at her in the mirror. She dropped her eyes to the floor.

“What?” Vinda inquired.

“It’s just-ha.” she took some steps away from the mirror, “It makes me think about how thing could have been, have I not…” she trailed. Vinda didn’t know about her magic from before, only that she had none. “Have I been a witch like you.” She settled for, because in a way this was more truer than anything else. She had stopped being a ‘normal’ witch since she was six.

Vinda considered this, “Sorry, I didn’t think it would make you sad.” she apologized, “But tell me, you do study at home right?”

Ariana frowned at the change of subject. "Yes. My Aunt and my neighbour help me when I struggle.”

“And what are your favorite subjects?” Vinda continued.

She didn’t have to think about it for long. “Herbology. Though I like Potions and Astronomy too.” she smiled, “Runes are interesting as well, I never knew a symbol could do so much.” She thought of Elphias and the pyramids he showed them, still barring runes powerful enough to deter anyone trying to enter into them.

Vinda hummed. “You should come to study at Beauxbâtons with me.” She threw casually.

Ariana shooked her head with vigor, “I can’t, I’m not-”

“A witch.” Vinda finished, “Yet, not having magic doesn’t mean you can’t learn. There are classes where you only need knowledge.” she said, “There’re many Squibs, as you called them, attending there as well.” at her surprised look, Vinda lifted one eybrow, “Did you think that we let them roam into the magical world without education? That would be hightly irresponsible.”

“In England, you can’t attend Hogwarts without magic.” she said with a small voice. It stung, still, this missed opportunity. “Even if you come from a magical family.”

Vinda huffed as she raised her chin, “Your Ministry is foolish.” she said with disdain, “Is it why you have to stay at home?” she questionned. Ariana nodded, this was close to the truth at least. “Well, you should consider it then.” Vinda said as she righted Ariana’s hat on her head, “Blue is totally your color, and I would like to have a friend with me at school next year.”

It was the word ‘friend’ that left her speechless. “I’m your friend?” She asked, too hopeful for Vinda not to notice. She tried to temper it down, with little success.

Vinda nodded once, gravely, “Yes.” she smiled at her, “I have the most respect for people who can stop someone with just a frying pan.” her smiled turned pensieve, “I seem to favour the bolt, like fortune.”

“It’s my brother, Aberforth, who teached me how to hit someone.” Ariana told her in a smile, “He called it ‘how to ditch an annoying brat’. He tried with Albus too, but it didn’t take.” She laughed as she recalled how Aberforth had shown them moves, and how in the end, Albus had stated that he knew how to use a sword, and considered it to be enough. ‘And how are you going to get a sword?’ Aberforth had asked, in a huff. Albus had just focused for a while, before a beautiful sword with rubies appeared in his waiting hand. After this, Aberforth had spluterred a lot of ‘how’, and ‘why you’.  
Albus and her had ended up the afternoon by role playing one of her fairytale. He even gave her the sword for a while, before Aberforth caught them and panicked.  
It had been a funny day.

(Last summer, Aberforth not so subtly remembered Albus and Ariana of his ‘precious lesson’. He had said that nothing was better than practise after all, while glaring at Gellert the whole time. Gellert hadn’t understood the reference, even though he knew that it had been an insult of sort, but Albus had, and Ariana knew he had been upset by it.  
A not so funny day, then.)

Vinda’s pale eyes lighted up, “With a pan as well?”

“No. This one is all on Greety.”

Vinda bursted into a surprised laugh, and Ariana happily joined her. It was nice to have a friend, she mused. She wondered if Vinda was a bit lonely as well. She didn’t think so, after all Vinda was accomplished and her family was famous, but she knew better than anyone that all wasn’t always was it seemed.  
Beauxbâtons was an unbelievable offer though. Just the thought of it was enough to make her head spin with possibilities.

Vinda laughed some more before promising to show Ariana her family’s encyclopedia on rare flowers.

Maybe, Beauxbâtons was not just another impossible dream, Ariana mused.  
Maybe.

*  
“And then, I told her: ‘it’s not magic, Madame, it’s science’.” Pernelle laughed as she told them her ‘younger years’, “You should have seen the face of my professor. She was bewildered.”

Albus smiled, and Elphias laughed along her, amused by the story. Pernelle took a sip of her glass of elf wine, her eyes crinkling in mirth. He bit into the food she had made, with gusto.  
The main meal was a well roasted chicken with potatoes. Gellert got two service of it, less because he had asked for it, and more because Pernelle had declared it to be necessary. He had given half of it to Albus when she wasn’t looking. He had accepted it, if only because it was delicious. Nicolas hadn’t lied, Pernelle was truly good at cooking.

“Tell me, Mister Grindelwald,” Nicolas paused as Pernelle mouthed at him: ‘Call him Gellert!”. He sighed before he continued, “What are you doing? I mean, professionaly speaking.” 

“Nothing tangible, I’m afraid.” Gellert replied, as he put his fork down. “Albus and I are traveling for now, and the rest is yet to be started.”

Albus conceded that ‘traveling’ was better than ‘searching for old artefacts no one believed in’.

“So you do nothing?” Nicolas didn’t wait a beat, “Albus still publishs articles. How are you going to live decently if you don’t work?” Nicolas asked, his disagreement obvious in his tone.

“Nicolas!” his wife astonished, “Let the youngs be young. They have all the time to settle and find a job. They want to see the world, you can’t disapprove of it.” she chided him, “Remind me, how many travels did you do?” 

“But,” Nicolas countered in a frown, “I was already a well-known alchemist then. Albus can’t be the only one coming home with money. It’s not fair for him.” He said firmly.

“They’re so new, let’s them take their marks. Honestly dear, you sound like your father when you take this tone.” She told him in a huff. She delicately bit into a potatoe. 

“But -” Nicolas started in a pertubated frown. 

“No more buts.” she cut him, final. “You’re a Seer right? Do you use a cristal ball as well?” She demanded to Gellert, as if they hadn’t ignored them all during their exchange.

Gellert looked at them both as if they were mental, before he replied to her. “No. I use a skull-hookah.”

Pernelle sent her husband a very telling look. “I told you, no one use a cristal ball anymore.” Nicolas made an incredulous face at this, while she turned her focus on Gellert again, “Tell me,” she prompted, “How old Nurmengard is exactly?”

Albus watched the conversation playing with a certain degree of detachment. It was better than to admit this was happening.

Elphias leaned over and whispered to him, “They weren’t this weird before, right?”

Albus gazed at Nicolas, frowning deeply at the head of the table, and at Pernelle, conversing while Gellert looked more and more confused with the two of them.

He sadly shook his head, “No, they weren’t.”

“Do you still wish to study dragon blood?” Nicolas inquired. The conversation between his wife and Gellert was like a hum in the background, interrupted now and then by Pernelle happy sounds.

“Yes.” Albus smiled at him, always happy to share his lastest interest with his friend. “I’m sure it could have a lot of uses. But in order to study it, I would need samples, which would be difficult to obtain.” He mused out loud, disappointed. Dragons were rares and their owners generally more known for their tough skins and brisk manners than for their willingness to satisfy a scientific curiosity.

“I think I could help you with this.” Nicolas said, his tone eager, “I know someone who had dragons, a old friend of mine who lived in Romania.” he explained, laughing a little at the word ‘old’, “He’s a gruff man, but, I believe, he won’t mind giving you a bit of blood for your research.”

“Truly?” Albus asked, his eyes lighten up in excitement.

“Truly.” he nodded. “And if you need a partner for this, do think of me.”

“I would love to do this with you.” Albus assured, enthusiastic now.

Nicolas laughed before he took his glass. He drank a bit, before saying, “Tell me when you wish to start then. You know you’re always welcome here.” he reminded him, “And your friends too.” He smiled at him.

"I will." Albus smiled back, full of gratitude. “Thank you, Nicolas.”

"- I remember when I met Nicolas's father, I've wanted nothing more than to run away." he heard Pernelle's laugh, "He was so inquisitive, you know? Thank Morgana, I will never be like this." she told Gellert. "Oh, this makes me think, did Albus meet your family yet?"

Albus eyed his napkin and briefly considered hidding behind it.

*  
“So, this diner was peculiar.” Gellert told him once Albus closed the door of the room Nicolas landed him. “I feel as if I’ve been interrogated all night by your parents.” He grumbled. it was, regrettably, an apt description, for Nicolas had wanted to know more about Gellert’s family, and Pernelle, how his mother looked like, and when he was going to present Albus to her.  
He had been behond mortified at this point of their evening.

"My mother would never have ask you those kind of thing." he thought she wouldn't have bothered. "I wish I could have taken my leave like Elphias did.” He sighed ruefully.

“Elphias was staying at the Flamel too, right?” Gellert abruptly wondered.

“Yes.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, Gellert could be so predictable sometimes.

“I thought there were only two spare room.” Gellert continued, restless, advancing on him until there were little more than a breath between them.

“There is.” He replied, peaceful. One day he might tell Gellert that his usual ways of intimidation was uneffective on him. Albus liked him into his space too much for it to work.

Gellert gave him a flat look. “And I doubt he was sharing with Ariana.”

“Of course he was not.” Albus happily confirmed, “This wouldn’t have been proper.”

Gellert looked on the verge of saying something terribly rude about the proper etiquette. “So, basically, the two of you slept together.” He said, with tone deceptively casual.

At this, Albus did rolled his eyes. “Don’t make it sound so evocative. We shared dormitory in Hogwarts for years, you know.” He reminded him.

Gellert, looked even more riled up by this. “I know.” He gritted.

“I also slept with Fawkes.” he slipped amused before he closed the last centimeter between them, and tilted his head so his lips could brush his. “Next time, just wait until I’m here before you go hunting mysteries,” he proposed in a hushed voice, “And I won’t share my room with others.” He finished in a smirk.

Gellert huffed at this. Albus smiled wider, knowing he had him. "Don’t look so smug.” Gellert astonished, before he captured Albus’s lips for a kiss.

They only broke apart to catch their breath, “Aren’t you tired?” Albus asked in a breathy voice, “You spent a whole week into a painting, after all.”

“I’m not.” he proved it by angling Albus’s head so he could kiss him better. “I feel truly restless, Liebling.” he told him in a hush, his fingers creasing the fabric of Albus’s shirt, “And, I missed you.” He admitted.

“I missed you too.” Albus divulged in a whisper. He chased after Gellert’s lips, trying to capture them again. He had wanted to do this all day. “Don’t you dare, worrying me like this again.” He warned, or at least, tried to.

Gellert paused his effort at undressing Albus of his shirt to answer him. “I will try not too.”

He let Gellert guide them toward the bed. He knees came into contact with the matress, and they both fell down. Gellert’s weigh was on top of him, and he seemed determined to get rid of their clothes, while Albus lost himself in the kisses, his own hands gripping Gellert’s neck and hair, wanting him closer, always closer. Gellert abruptly stopped as his mouth came to his bare neck. Albus made a sound of disapproval.

“What is this?” Gellert asked in a low tone.

Albus refused to admit that he was pouting. “A difficult lover.” He pointed the obvious instead.

Gellert rolled off him, and tilted Albus’s head to the side so he could look at his neck more closely. He seemed… angry.

Albus blinked. “What?”

“Did she do that?” Gellert asked arshly, “That woman.” he spat. “Ariana said you've been with her for some time. Alone. And you were out of it when we came down.”

Albus touched his neck. He completely forgot it. Of course, with the force Miss Tumer used to dig his wand into his neck, and his easely bruising skin, this would have left a mark. He sat as he tried to cover it back with his shirt, but Gellert didn’t let him do. He put two fingers on the bruise and Albus felt his magic travel under his skin. It buzzed warmly with his.

“Thank you.” Albus offered him a small smile. 

Gellert remained stiff. Finally he sighed. “I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I was hardly agreeing to it.” Albus reminded him, with a arch of his brow.

“Exactly.” Gellert continued, “If Ariana hadn’t come down then, you could have-”

“I came for you.” Albus stated firmly. “I wouldn't have left without you.” he stared at Gellert before adding, “You promised.” He breathed and lowered his eyes to the covers. They were white with little green dots everywhere. He found them very... (His heart was hammering into his chest. He didn’t want to admit it to anyone, last of all to himself, but he feared that one day, Gellert would leave him behind despite his reassurances. If Gellert had to chose, between him and the Deathly Hallows, what would he do? Who would he chose? Albus thought he already knew the answer even if he didn’t want it. And then -) Yes, the covers were nice.

Gellert caressed his jaw with his hand before he dropped his forehead into his. Albus’s eyes found his immediately. “I did.” he said softly, “And I won’t let us be separated, I swear. But I don’t want you to take risks either.”

“You were the one who began.” Albus pointed. His arms went around his neck, and he kissed one of his cheek tenderly.

“It was a calculated one.” Gellert argued, though his resolve began to crumble the more Albus kissed him. “Fine.” he kissed him back, briefly, before conceding, "I should have waited for you.”

“Yes, you should have.” he agreed, and smiled against Gellert’s skin, “The good news is that now, we know where to search for the cloak.”

Gellert’s head tilted, and he paused.“Do we?”

“Henry Potter,” Albus started, “Is in Hogwarts as Miss Tumer told us. He’s a Griffindor, seventh year, same as Aberforth.” He explained.

“You know him, then.” Gellert deduced.

“Yes." he confirmed. "And I know exactly when we could approach him and, perhaps, see the Hallow by ourselves.” He finished in a grin.

Gellert grinned back, looking tempting, with his messed hair and half open shirt. Debauched and dangerous, Albus thought. “When?” He asked him.

His eyes tracked Gellert’s exposed chest, the skin he could see perking throught. “During graduation, of course.” Albus replied quickly, as he considered this conversation too long. He tugged at Gellert’s clothes, making him came closer, and kissed him again.

Gellert answered easely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chap should be the last one in Paris before we move elsewhere :D also it will have plenty of grindeldore into it, yeah!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween!! 👻 🍬  
> *whisper* Don't you know? They're talking 'bout revolution...

_Summer 1899 ___

____

____

Gellert and him had taken refuge inside Bathilda’s house today, the witch being out for the afternoon, and the weather being far too hot to stay outside.

Albus was sitting, cross-legged on her library floor, reading Propheties by Nostradamus. With the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, he was distracting himself from the heat by generally discarding every predictions the man had ever written down. He huffed a laugh at a particular sentence, and closed the book to search for Gellert. He had to hear this.  
Gellert, despite being one, regarded other supposed Seer as rubbish. It amused Albus to no end.

He looked for him, with his book tucked under his arm, bypassing the living. He found him in the kitchen, drinking cold water as if his life depended on it. Bathilda had added pieces of lemons into it, Albus could spot them floating through the transparent glass.

“How you survive this weather is beyond me.” Gellert wondered, as he shot Albus an exasperated look. He didn’t seem to favor hot temperature at all.

To be trustful, Albus had no idea how he was surviving this already. This being: Gellert half naked body, for he had discarded his usual dark vest and shirt, exposing the flushed skin of his chest.  
His hair were wild because Gellert had passed his hands into his curls all afternoon, in a futil attempt to find cool air at first, and then in frustration at the heat. The window behind Gellert showed the countryside and allowed the sun to light the kitchen. It also turned each strand of Gellert’s hair into gold.

It was terribly unfair to create such temptation, he mused almost pouting. For Albus was, for the first time of his life, tempted. Reading Nostradamus had been the safer route he had found under such a short notice. It had been this or… Gellert. And focusing on Gellert could led to hazardous thoughts.

“Habit, I guess.” And a lot of denial, he didn’t add, giving his friend a small smile instead.

He expected Gellert to return it but his face became serious. He held his eyes as he put his glass down on the counter, slow and deliberate, as if deciding something. The click it made when it touched the surface certainly felt final.  
Gellert’s gaze never wavered away from him, not when he walked toward him, not after he was so close, their chests were brushing, his naked skin against his shirt. Albus still had his book between his fingers, the line he wanted to show him forgotten, but he had put the book up and to him as the other man approached.

A paper shield against the unstoppable force that was Gellert Grindelwald. 

Albus knew his odds.

Gellert caressed his cheek, delicately, before his fingers travelled into his hair. Albus was sure then, Gellert could hear his heart trying to fly off his chest. He must, because there wasn’t enough space to hide anything between the two of them.  
Boom, boom.

“Tell me you want this as much as I do.” Gellert demanded in a whisper.

“I,” he started breathless. He teared his eyes off Gellert. Looked at the glass he left behind him instead. The window. The lemons. He ducked his head. “This is a dangerous talk you’re having there.”

Gellert seemed displeased to have lost his complete focus, but he asked, “More dangerous than my opinion on the International Statue of Secrecy?”

Albus had to smile at this, “Way worst. Political opinion, even the most radicals ones, are safer than this.” Gellert must have heard about Oscar Wilde’s trials. He must have known the result as well as the risks. Even if Wilde was a Muggle, it changed very little in the end. The Muggle’s public opinion was the same as the wizards’s on this, their justice just as condemning. Albus shouldn’t allow this.  
He truly shouldn’t.  
_But he wanted._

__

__

____

____

“Being safe is not the same as being happy.” Gellert stated, his mouth so near to his, far too near. If Albus leaned, just a little, he could – “Change can be perceive as dangerous. But the truth is, the world around us is changing. And it’s ours to shape as we see fit.”

Albus’s laugh caught him by surprise. Gellert could be so pretentious sometimes. He wondered if this was how he, Albus, sounded too. A young man with too much ambitions and certitudes. “I think that you, Herr Grindelwald, like to play with fire.” his eyes seeked him again. It would be so easy to grab this moment. Too easy, he thought, as this could lead to everything. Or he could deny this, get out of Gellert’s almost embrace, and leave Bathilda’s house. It would be simple too. Everything or nothing, then. “Did you See this?” Albus had to ask. “Us, together.”

“No.” Gellert replied. “I do not have Visions of everything. Even I cannot predict how this will end.”

“I would rather you never See the end.” He admitted in a hush.

Albus had always wanted too much.  
He crossed the last centimeter separating them, an offence he needed to erase, and Gellert tilted his head to kiss him. Gellert’s lips on him were soft, almost chaste, but soon turned demanding as his hands began to close around him.

Albus tasted lemons as the kiss became deeper. It certainly made him loved the flavor even more.  
The book dropped, somewhen between Gellert kissing him again, and Albus finally running his fingers into the gold of his hair.

He never cared less about Divination.

*  
1900, April, Wednesday, 25th

Hours later, Albus was half dozing, half sleeping, almost sprawled on Gellert. His head was using Gellert’s chest as its pillow, because Albus liked to hear his heartbeat, as he found the sound lulling. He opened his eyes slowly when he felt a hand traced symbols on his back. A triangle, a circle, and a vertical line. He turned his head upward, and blinked the sleep out of his eyes to gaze at Gellert, who was looking pensive and far too much awakened for the late hour.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked him in hush. “Did you have another Vision?” He knew that it happened sometimes, leaving Gellert wide awake and on alert, as if whatever he just Saw was going to strike them during the night. Gellert rarely seemed to See good outcome, unfortunately.

“No, just having a hard time finding sleep.” he answered quietly, his hands petting Albus hair gently, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

Albus hummed, enjoying Gellert’s touch, “I was hoping to have tire you enough.” He teased, a smile tugging at his lips. He languidly moved his body against Gellert’s to illustrate his point, before giving him a pointed look.

Gellert’s eyes danced in unconcealed amusement. “I did spend a lot of my energy on you.” He grinned.

Albus huffed a laugh. “You must think yourself terribly smart.” he breathed, Gellert’s lips close enough to taste if he desired, “To make such subtle innuendo.”

“I believe to be, in fact, quite smart.” He proudly stated.

“And so modest too.” Albus pointed in a smirk.

“Of course. One rarely goes without the other.”

Albus outright laughed at this. When, suddently, an idea crossed his mind. “If you’re not tired, I know what we could do.”

Gellert quirked an eyebrow, intrigued, “Not what we’d done earlier then, I gather?”

“No.” Albus smiled in mischief, “My idea involves going out into a sulphurous part of the town, without waking up anyone and going back just as discreetly.”

Gellert’s eyes flashed in delighed, “Lead the way.” 

*  
Finding the Bohemians had been easy. Albus knew they gathered in Montmatre, and from there, they only have to follow the sound of party.  
Miss Tumer had not been wrong, Albus thought as they entered an animated street, and an even more animated pub of sort, the wizards and witches present there seemed to be rather intoxicated. There were tables where passionate debates seemed to be happening. Others chosed to dance, their close distance clearly beyond what was the norm in public. Some were shocking, the women’s low-cut teasing until it reached their breasts, leaving little to imagination or the way some men had their faces full of make-up, which sparkled under the low light of the pub. Those dancing, high on a stage of sort, with their heels tapping a rhythme against the hard wood, couldn’t be concidered proper with the way most of their legs were on display. But there was a sort of frantic beauty to them, that added with the astmophere, made the room charged with this will to live fully, and to live now.  
Albus breathed into it, tasting it.

“Now, I really want to know, how and when you learn of this kind of place.” Gellert wondered, his shoulder brushing his, as his eyes took in the room. A group of women passed them by, giggling, and leering at Gellert under half lidded eyes. There was a kind of unbielivable beauty to them, their figures almost too attractive to be true. Albus frowned at them, not liking it. “And people think I’m a bad influence.” Gellert continued, distracted as he blinked at them in surprise.

Women were rarely this forward. Albus bet they were Veela. He heard a lot of them lived in France. One woman of the group smirked, a small brunet with golden skin, flirty and inviting at the same time. Albus fixed her.

“Let’s take a sit.” He then suggered, as he took Gellert by the hem of his coat, breaking eye contact with the brunet Veela. 

Because she was one, without doubt now, her purple-ish eyes being her most obvious tell. Veela tended to have improbable eyes colour, along others very persuasive… arguments. Some could compel someone, or at least strongly influence them, by only looking straight into another person’s eyes. A bit like Muggle’s hypnotism.  
Albus had seen it first hand, it was impressive, but mostly ineffective on Legilimens like him.  
He rolled his eyes, without him Gellert would have probably just stay there, and stare stupidly at her, while she made silent promises at him from afar. With only a simple brush inside her mind, he could tell what she wanted. Her thoughts had been rather loud. And specific. Merlin. 

Albus spotted a little round table near a wall and directed them here. They could easely see the whole room from here, and the space seemed secluded enough that they could have a little privacy. Once installed, they got rid of their coat, the fresh air of the night not reaching the inside of the pub, in contrary, the air was rather hot and humid, with all those people moving around. He folded his coat carefully on his chair, and he had barely finished, when an house-elf appeared at their table.

“What sirs wish?” The little creature asked.

Gellert opened his mouth but Albus gently beat him to it. “Two pumpkin juice, please.” He ordered.

The house-elf clapped his fingers together and their drinks flew from the bar to their table. He went to serve others clients, leaving Albus with a sour looking Gellert.

“Pumpkin juice.” He repeated flalty. “What are we, five?”

“It’s healthy and tasty. What do you want more?”

“Alcohol.” Gellert said as if it was obvious.

“You have no tolerance for alcohol.” Albus reminded him. A wasted Gellert was a singing Gellert, at least, he had been the last time he got drunk. “And I said that my plan involved a quiet and discreet return to the Flamel.” He would rather not face Nicolas or Pernelle with a drunk and singing Gellert.

“How many times do I have to tell you that it had been the beers’s fault? They were spiked with something.”

“Yes, with alcohol.” Albus hid his smile against his glass. He took a sip of his juice, and immediately took another. Ah, how much did he like pumpkin juice.

Gellert made an offended face, and huffed. “You’re not taking this seriously. This may be a Irish’s conspiration.”

“Then you shall tell your concerns to the Ministry of Magic.” Albus grinned at the thought. “I’m sure they will be excited by the case.”

Gellert snorted at the mere suggestion. “I can’t believe you’re going to let the Aurors took the credit. If Vinda and I had been waiting for them to find us, we would have been waiting for a long time. And we could have used the reward Vinda’s father was giving.” He sighed in defeat.

“We’re not so poor.” in fact his last published article in Transfiguration Today had worked quite well, “And can you imagine the sort of questions they would have asked us? We were, by law, still breaking inside a house. And Ariana was with me.” His fingers tapped on his glass. The temperature had made little pearl of water slid on the surface. “I don’t want to expose her to this.” This could open another whole line of questionning, he thought. 

Gellert hummed, “Fine. I guess, I would have to do without.” the ‘for now’ was implied. “And, I will find the answer of those beers by myself, and prove to you that I was right.” He declared firmly.

“And, how do you intend to do this?” Albus questionned patiently, humouring him a bit.

Gellert sipped his drink, “I don’t know.” His eyes held his, determined, now that he had been challenged. “Yet.”

“I’ll be waiting for it anxiously.” Albus told him cheerfully, this was going to be funny, he mused. Gellert narrowed his eyes at him for this.

“Your attention,” a wizard started loudly, as he climbed on the stage. He was rather tall, his dark hair coiffed neatly on a side, and covering his temple. He was wearing a belt of sort closing around his waist above his vest, and strangely enough given the circumstances, a tie, which seemed to be held by a delicate silver pin. 

“Oi, what do you want Krall?” One witch shouted.

The man –Krall it seemed - gave her a pointed look. He waited for the room to ush, before he continued. “We just learnt that the missing wizards had been found back.”

They were an excited clamour, but a voice managed to break through, the witch again it seemed, “By whom?”

“By the British Aurors,” Gellert shot him a withering look. Albus evaded it by drinking his juice. “But, it appeared that this is not the truth.” at this, Albus listened more closely, “One of the recently found wizard is here with us, and he’s telling a different story.” he said in a grave tone, “He told me, that it was a group of civilians who found him, and,” he paused, the whole room suspended at his lips, “That they are along us, tonight.” uh-oh, Albus had the time to think before the man pointed at them. He stilled under the gazes they now had on them, “Please, come here,” he demanded, “So we can thank you properly.”

Albus would rather not, but Gellert stood up, so Albus followed, albeit with more hesitancy. It was not that he was shy, per se, but if Gellert didn’t want to hide into shadows, Albus had never trusted the light completely. It tended to be blinding, and he knew better than most that a public could hate the same man they cheered as their hero yesterday. It could be more fickle than the wind, and change just as fast.  
They stopped next to the stage, Albus refused to climb on it, he had some limits, but this seemed to be enough for Krall.

“What’s your name?” He climbed down as he asked them in a soft voice.

“Albus Dumbledore,” Gellert said pointing at him, “And I’m Gellert Grindelwald.”

He shook his hands delicately. Gellert seemed unwilling to give him his, so they nodded at one other in greeting. “I’m Krall.” He offered no surname to them.

“We’ll rather not have our names mentionned.” Albus said after Krall let go of his hand.

“This, I can do.” Krall assured him. He turned his steady gaze toward the curious witches and wizards waiting for the rest of his speech, “We, witches and wizards of Paris, thank you both, for what you have done. We’re in debts, and if you find yourself in need, the Bohemians will be happy to help you. For Freedom,” He raised a glass.

The others mimicked him, and shouted in unison, “For Beauty, and Love!” At that, everyone drunk down their drinks. In one go.

“This is the kind of followers I want.” Gellert told him as he regarded them in the same way he, himself, must look at a candy shop. Albus bit his lower lip to refrain himself to comment. If their followers spent all their nights into pubs, their revolution wouldn’t go very far. It probably wouldn’t cross the street without walking all funny.

“Do you want to say something?” Krall asked them, before asking the elf to refill his glass.

Albus shook his head in negative, but Gellert positively beamed. “Yes, I would like to.” With this, he climbed on the stage, of course he would, Albus thought in fond exasperation.

He took a free chair left free near the wall so he could obeserve him. Gellert already had all eyes on him, Albus could tell without having to check the room. He always seemed to have it easely, without any real effort from his part.

“My brothers, my sisters, my friends," Gellert started in a smile, "I want to ask you, tonight, a simple question. Why shall we be the ones to hide?" he interrogated the crowd who was looking raptly at him, "Why shall we hide our talents? Our magic?" he made a movement of his hand and the lights blinked in and out. He was showing off to illustrate his point, Albus thought in a huff. "Because of the Statue of Secrecy, you will tell me. Because of all the muggles, the moldus, all of those who don't have magic, you will say. After all, how many of us had lost a loved one, or a family member, because of their prejudices." The faces around them were becoming serious. Gellert, sensing this change, continued in a sober tone. "I want to tell you tonight, to not be afraid of them. I'm not scared of them," he affirmed, "I do not hate them, either. They simply have a different value. Muggles are in need of directions. Of help. Left to their own, they only create chaos. How many wars did they start? How many more before they destroy everything we'd built? I've Seen a world war," Gellert said gravely. Albus casted his eyes down at this, he remembered the state in which this Vision had left Gellert. He remembered his fear, his urgency. "I've Seen nothing but destruction and death then. But, we can still change it all." he assured to the people who were now hanging on each of his words. "Right now, my friends, we are at a crossroad. Magic blooms only in rare souls," Albus almost started in his seat, surprised to hear his own words in Gellert's mouth. "It's our responsability to take our rightful place, and to create something new, something different. For the Greater Good, for our freedom and for love." He finished in a playful smile directed at him.

Albus heard people cheering for Gellert distantly, like a faint noise instead of the clamor it must be. He watched Gellert, higher than everyone else and bathed under the applause.  
He-  
There was a potential in Gellert, that appeared clearly to Albus in this instant. A potential for the better, but also for the worst. Gellert could easely just turn their revolution into… something else. Something dark and chaotic, like… a war. He had the charisma to move a crowd, the charm to manipulate anyone he might need. And with Albus whispering the right words to him, Gellert could very well become…  
Albus blinked, and averted his gaze. When he looked up, Gellert was Gellert again. Ambitious yes, but not...

He trusted him, and Gellert wanted to lift the International Statue of Secrecy just as much as him, and for the same reason: the good of wizardkind. It was for peace they were working for.

For the Greater Good.

Then someone shouted: “Drinks for everyone!” And Gellert greedily finished his drink in one glup, making a grimace as the alcohol burnt his throat. Albus sighed, he was betting on two other shot before he came back staggering to him.  
Krall took a sit next to him.

“So, are you a revolutionary like you’re friend up there, or are you merely accompanying him?” he asked him, his dark eyes curious and his hand still nursing a drink, “You’re awfully quiet.” He remarked.

Albus smiled. “It’s one of my belief that those loudly screaming are not necessary the ones that are the more listened.”

“Are you implying that we do too much yelling?” he asked, apparently unoffenced, “It helps attract a crowd, you know.”

“Not really. You only remember the tantrums they made, not their words.”

Krall laughed, a loud and rich sound, “You’re probably right. Tell me, are you in Paris because of work or only for pleasure?” He wondered, his tone turning playful at the word ‘pleasure’.

Albus lifted an eyebrow. “Neither.” he wandlessy Leviated his pumpkin juice to him, and took a sip, “I’m visiting some friends of mine. What about you, Mister Krall? Are you here for work or for something else?”

If Krall noticed his reluctance to say ‘pleasure’, he didn’t mention it, but he looked at him more closely now, “I’m working for the Indonesia's delegation. You know, yelling things.” he smiled. “For two months, it had been a lot of paperworks to do and legal stuff. Very boring. I found this place by chance, and I came back every evenings, ever since.” He explained.

Albus smiled back. “Truly? Tell me, what do you yell?”

“My delegation wishes to promote our country. Most countries came for this, more than anything else.” he confided. “Mine chose to show our culture and also our… local curiosity.” His mouth down twisted down, displeased it seemed.

It only intrigued Albus more. “What kind of curiosity do you show?”

“Maledicta,” Albus froze, his fingers slipping from his glass, “It’s-”

“Someone cursed to be unable to change back from their animal's form as the time comes.” Albus cut, “I heard about them. But I fail to see what your country could want out of them.”

Krall lowered his eyes, “They make them transform for the pleasure of the public. It’s a show.” he must have noticed his disgusted face for he added, “I’m as against as you are. But my Ministry had requested it. I can’t go against their order without attracting their anger for myself. And for what?” he asked, looking tired suddently, “They will continue to do it. They will only fire me and choose someone else.”

“You’re probably right.” Albus conceded, “But if you do nothing, nothing will change.” He drummed his fingertips against the wood table. Tap, tap, tap.

“Is this why your friend speak to abolish the Statue of Secrecy?” he asked him, “A dangerous talk, he did here.”

“Change can be seen as dangerous. But the truth is, our world is changing weither we want it or not.” Albus said, “Muggles are evolving in ways that escape us. They’re about to fly and conquer the sky now, and what would happen when even the clouds can’t cover for us anymore? We’re running out of place to hide, Mister Krall. The Muggles discovering us is inevitable.” there was so much Obliviation the Ministry could do. “I believe we could build a better world, not by excluding them from ours but by integrating them into it. I believe it could be beautiful.”

Krall regarded him silently for a long time, before saying. “You should go on the stage with your friend next time. You’re great at this.”

Albus smiled amused, “We’ll see.” he then wondered, “Did you mean it? That if we needed help we could find it here?”

“Yes.” he eyed him. “Why?”

Gellert chose this moment to stumble into him, his body collided with his back. His head ended up into the crook of his neck, as both of his arms cricled his middle.

“Mein Schatz,” he slurred, “Ich habe eine kleine wild Blume; Eine Pflanze die zwischen den Wolken blühte.”

Krall was staring at Gellert who was looking up (or trying to, from this angle this was proving to be a hardship) at Albus with an hopeful expression. Albus, for his part, wondered how Gellert managed to not be repetitive in his drunken’s bout of poetry. It was kind of impressive, If he was honest.

“Is this a poem?” asked Krall, earning himself a nasty glare from Gellert. “I’ll go.” He quickly said, as he started to leave.

“Don’t.” Albus grabbed his forearm. “As I was telling you, I’m in need of your help.”

Krall frowned. “What for?”

“What for.” Gellert echoed but without any interrogative inflection into his voice, “I don’t like you.” He announced to Krall’s face.

Albus smiled peacefully, ignoring Krall’s suspicions and Gellert’s animosity. “I need you to lead me to your delegation's pavilion. I wish to free the Maledictas you told me about.” Krall’s eyes widened in alarm. “The situation won’t change by itself. And you said yourself that you were against.” Albus reminded firmly, his eyes boring into Krall, “This is your chance to do something about it.”

Krall stared at him longly, before saying, “I’m going to get fired.” He rubbed his forehead in anxiety.

Gellert nodded a bit clumsy, “I would fire you too.” His arms tightened around Albus. He tried to rise his chin higher, as if to look down at Krall.

The poor man recoiled, unsure faced to such sulking. Albus sighed, taking Gellert by the arms, and making hm sit next to him. He did so, but his equilibrium was precarious. He had to grab his left side to keep Gellert from falling.

“Let’s meet each other in one hour or so,” Albus proposed to Krall, “So some of us could be more lucid.” he joked, but Krall acquiesced rapidly and left without looking back. Albus turned his attention to Gellert, who was still glaring. “You liked him just fine when he gave you the opportunity to try out your speech.” he reminded him, brushing Gellert’s hair back into place with his free hand, “You added some words. I didn’t remember the end to be like this.”

“Had to adapt myself to the public.” his eyes fluttered, shutting themselves, “Was it good?”

Albus smiled, knowing he was biased, for even the sight of a buzzed Gellert trying to fight sleep on a chair, was making him feel terribly fond of the man. “You were perfect.” He replied sincerely, petting his hair some more, the golden locks soft under his fingers.

Gellert hummed, before opening his eyes. “I don’t like Krall.” He repeated, stubbornly.

“Alright.” Albus said, knowing that trying to reason Gellert in this state would be fruitless.

“You’re my great.” then he frowned as if taken by a doubt, “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

“It depends,” he paused as if considering it, “Are you mine as well?”

“Ich liebe ditch.” Gellert said before yawning. Albus supposed this answered it.

Gellert probably wouldn't remember this in the morning. There were people everywhere, near them, making a ruckus and laughing loudly. A plan to free the Maledictas was already forming into his head, and he guessed Gellert would enjoy it. After this, they still had to go back to the Flamel, Albus hoped Gellert wouldn’t be as intoxicated as he was by then and - 

“I love you too.” He whispered back, like a secret that wasn’t really one, held between them.

*  
“Gellert, where’s Krall? Wasn’t he with you?”

“Oh, he chose to stay inside.”

“I thought he said he was coming with us?”

“He changed his mind.”

“… How come you seem so awake now?”

“I never was sleeping.”

“So you dozing on me, was an hallucination from my part? Along your singing, of course.”

“…”

“Gellert, where’s Krall?”

“I told you, he decided to stay behind. Don’t worry, mein geliebter, I made sure he won’t get fired because of this little break-in.”

“…”

“If he was not so taken by, hum, his responsibilities inside, he would thank me.”

“…”

“Shouldn’t we help the Maledictas rather than dwell on Krall?”

“Does master Albus want a biscuit?”

*  
_Breaking news!_

__

__

The missing cases clouding Paris’ romantic atmosphere during the last months, solved!  
A witch arrested! The victims, including the Rosier’s Heir, found! All the details on their rescue by the courageous British Auror, Torquil Travers, page 3!

_A mysterious break-in inside the Universal Exposition!_

__

__

The Indonesian's pavilion, situated between La Place Cachée and La Rue du Secret had been robbed last night of its main attraction: their three Maledictas (see definition below) were gone when the supervisor of the delegation, Monsieur Khan, came back this morning, worried by the lack of news from his employee. Said employee, Monsieur Krall, had later been found, bounded and gagged to a chair, and seem to have been Obliviated.  
The first conclusions of the case show that the thieves were fast and magically powerful enough to go through many wards without alerting any of the Aurors, who were patrolling the streets near the Exposition during the night.  
Curiously enough, even though none of the inhabitant of the district had seen a thing, many proclaimed to have heard singing. Some recognized the song as being a German lullaby. To add to this mystery, a metallic box, with only one biscuit left inside, had been found next to where the wards had been taken down.  
The Aurors are on the case.

_Le Parisien Magicien_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So writing a revolutionary's speech is hard, who knew? Haha
> 
> Gellert's little poem is from a Patricia Kaas' song and means: I have a little wild flower; a plant that bloomed between the clouds.
> 
> Mein geliebter: my beloved
> 
> Next chap is All About Abe or Aberforth returns into the narrative! :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Meet Henry Potter!

Paris, 26 April 1900  
_Hullo.  
Today in my Divination class, we talked about Hepatomancy, and how in ancient Greece, Seers read the futur inside the entrails of animals. It was interesting, I guess, even if I care little about Divination (I have Gellert for that). But my teacher said that they even used goats to do it. Did you ever try it with yours?  
P.S.: Your Aunt is very nice. She knows ways to poison someone without leaving a trace, just by using plants. It’s remarkable. I like her a lot.  
Vinda _  
__

____

____

What the hell?!  
Every papers here had been talking about your kidnapping! Are you ok? You can’t just come back and say ‘hi’ as if nothing happened!  
Of course, I never tried it on my goats. Honestly. And what did it have anything to do with Gellert? Is he planning to GUT MY GOATS?!  
P.S.: When did you meet my Aunt?  
Aberforth

Beauxbâtons, 3 May 1900  
_Oh, were you worried?  
I like the term ‘abduction’ better. Kidnapping is such an infantile word.  
A pity you never tried. Maybe, we could one day?  
I don’t know about gutting your goats, but Gellert talks about your demise often. Do not worry, he’s always very creative.  
P.S.: Your Aunt is dating my father. Meeting happened.  
Vinda ___

____

____

N-Ye  
That’s besides the point! You’re evading my questions.  
Please, let my goats live.  
Also, sure that’s not worrying at all (sacarms).  
P.S.: You’re joking right? RIGHT?  
Aberforth

Beauxbâtons, 10 May 1900  
_You were worried. This is very sweet. (I was starting to think you only cared for your goats, and then, I would have to eliminate them. I’m sure you would have understood.)  
P.S.: No. They are, in fact, dating.  
I mourn the fact that I can’t see the face you’re going to make when you read this. A true tragedy.  
Vinda ___

____

____

Don’t kill them, damnit. And I was only a bit concerned. Like, a tiny bit. That’s all!  
P.S.: what. HOW DID THIS HAPPEN? SINCE WHEN? OH MY GOD!  
Is there something else I should know?!  
Aberforth

Beauxbâtons, 17 May 1900  
_Your goats are safe for now. You’re very cute when ‘concerned’.  
P.S.: The rest is a surprise. Your graduation is still mid-June right?  
Vinda ___

____

____

Yes, mid-June. Why am I even more worried somehow? And how much is ‘the rest’?  
Aberforth

Beauxbâtons, 24 May 1900  
_Perfect. You’re only worried because you have a very suspicious nature.  
The only clue I can give you is this: red is not only the Griffindor’s color.  
Vinda ___

____

__

“Yeah, that clear up so much.” Aberforth muttered. It was diner time inside the Great Hall of Hogwarts, on a Friday, which meant a lot of chatter was happening for everyone wanted to do something fun for the week-end. Well, everyone except the seventh year, whose projects for the month were to study for their N.E.W.T.s, while stressing over the future at the same time. 

Meanwhile Aberforth, despite popular's opinion, could do two things at once; namely absently picking at his food and reading his letter at the same time.

“What are you grumbling about again?” Diggory asked in a tired voice. He was trying to go through his notes on Potions while eyeing a cherry pie. His attention seemed very torn between the edible dessert and his last minutes studies.

“Hush.” Potter leant into Diggory in a conspiratorial manner, snatching a slice of pie on his way, much to Diggory sadness, if his pout was anything to go by. “He’s reading his girlfriend’s letter.”

Diggory snikered, and gave into the sweet temptation waiting for him on the table. Aberforth only rose his eyes from his letter to glare at them. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He grumbled for the tenth times this month. This was starting to get old. He folded the parchment in hopes that they would forget about it. He put it carefully inside his robe 

Diggory rolled his eyes, “Please.” he bit into his dessert with gusto, “Just admit it, pal.” he chewed on a juicy cherry, “You know, we’re all very happy for you.”

Potter nodded along, “And don’t think I didn’t see you at Hogsmead last time."

Aberforth stiffened in his seat, while Diggory asked eagerly, “What did you see?” Like the gossip he truly was.

Henry took a very satisfied air, “Abe, going out from the Wrapping Ribbon Shop. It was just before the news of Rosier’s kidnapping broke out.” his smile turned smug, “And we all know this is the place to go when one want to find the perfect present."

Aberforth frowned, “How do you know this?” He asked, deeply unsettled because there had been no other Hogwarts’ students in the streets at the time. He had checked back and forth several times, in order to not have to go through this.  
In vain, apparently. 

“Oooh.” Diggory almost put away his dessert at this. A feat. “You bought her a gift?” His voice was all wonder.

“Absolutely not.” Abe hastly denied. He only bought her a not-gift because she had mentionned, in passing in one of her letter, her approaching birthday.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Potter said, relentless.

“You’re a secret romantic.” Diggory remarked, sounding very bewildered about it, “Well, this is unexpected.” He said right before he went back to his pie. 

“I’m not,” he told Diggory and to Potter he threatened, as menacing as he could, “Don’t you dare spreading this rumor."

Henry half shrugged, as if this getting out was inevitable anyway. “Still better than McLaggen pinning for your brother.” He shot a side-eyed look at the boy in question.

“I’m not pinning.” McLaggen denied, stopping his read of the gazette to scowl at them.

The Daily Prophet seemed to have finally moved on, he remarked with relief, the cover showing up the lastest game of Quidditch instead. Aberforth had begun to get sick of seeing the newly appointed Head Auror, and his ‘impressive success in uncovering the truth’. A certain Torquil Travers, or whatever was his name, who was said to have solved the missing cases happening in Paris during the last months, or as the journalists named them the ‘Portraits' Case’. Travers received a promotion, along a reward from the Rosier's family. It had been on every papers for weeks. Personnaly, Aberforth was going to wait for Vinda’s version before cheering for the guy. 

“I just miss him very much. Especially during Defence and Transfiguration.” McLaggen continued as he sighed in longing, obviously _pinning._

__

__

Aberforth made a face, while Diggory threw one hand in the air, the one not holding the pie for dear life, that was. “Here we go, the Sigh again.” he regarded McLaggen flatly, “Get over it, please.” he made a motion to the Transfiguration Today’s journal that McLaggen had put inside the Prophet, a desperate attempt to fool them into thinking he gave up on his obssessive read of the lastest article Albus had written. Aberforth thought this ‘crush’ (he shuddered) was going out of hand. “You’re starting to be worse than Professor Merrythought.” Diggory accused sourly.

“Don’t remind me.” Henry half mumbled in his glass of pumpkin juice, “I actually liked Defence before it turned into a contest of moping on Albus’s absence.”

Aberforth grumbled in affirmative. Since Albus left Hogwarts, the Defense class had become… strange. Professor Merrythought was clearly missing Albus’s clever input and so, she was often lost in remembrance as she said something like: ‘Albus would have done this’, ‘Albus would have understood’. More often than not, this was followed by a lot of sighing from her part.  
And McLaggen’s. The two of them sighed in tandem sometimes. It was creepy, and thus, the Defence Against the Dark Arts had been named for the circumstance: 'Defence Against the Depression of Albus’. Everyone was trying their best to leave the class unscathed. Meanwhile McLaggen was not helping.

“Is Albus going to be there for your graduation?” McLaggen asked him, so hopeful that Aberforth grimaced.

“This is pathetic.” Diggory interceded, “Get your crush under control, if not for you, then for the others.” he gave him an exhausted look. “Have some mercy.”

“I don’t have a crush on Albus!” He blushed violently.

“Yeah, and the sky’s not blue.” Potter muttered, unimpressed.

McLaggen looked ready to combust. Since Aberforth actually had some pity, he told him, “Albus will come for my graduation. Along my sister and aunt.”

His brother had written to him to confirm his presence weeks ago. Aberforth was still sore about the fact that he left wihout saying goodbye, he even wrote a long letter to him saying that it was rude and could he please dump Gellert?  
Albus had answered that no, he wouldn’t please him, and that if Aberforth hadn’t been snoring into his cup of tea, he would have realised what was happening and be aware of the proper goodbye he was receiving, like Ariana and Honoria did.  
Aberforth still denied he snored.

“Is your sister cute?” Henry asked, curious and completely shameless as he interrupted his musing.

“Don’t even think about it.” Abe said lowly, rising a finger at him in warning.

Potter gave him a shit eating grin. “That’s a yes, then.” He glowered at him with little effect. Potter tended to ignore those things with an envious mastery.

Diggory finished his pie before asking, “Say, is your brother still single?"

Henry groaned out loud, “Not you too!"

“Not for me.” Diggory smiled, “I’m asking for McLaggen. All this pinning, it’ll be a shame if it all went to waste.”

“I. Am. Not. Pinning!” McLaggen inserted loudly enough that Minerva McGonagall, a fifth year that Potter had picked up like some picked strays, lifted her head from her heavy book.

“Everyone knows you had it bad for Albus.” she told Mclaggen flatly, before resuming her reading. “Even Albus, I bet.” She lazily flipped a page of her book.

“How…” McLaggen started, baffled, “How do you know that?”

Minerva smirked, proving that Potter was an awful influence.

The man in question snorted. “You’re so not discreet. Next time shout it louder. The Slytherin’s table haven’t heard you yet.”

Aberforth thought on how to answer Diggory’s question. In one hand, he couldn’t outright say that Albus was, hopefully only temporarily, with Gellert. At Hogwarts most people were tolerant, but out there, the view on his brother’s relationship could be far more harsh. In another hand, he couldn’t say that Albus was with someone and leaving it to that. It will raise too much interrogation.  
He mulled over it as he studied McLaggen. Harmless, wide-eyed, McLaggen. A bit of a nerd, with light brown hair and clear eyes. If Albus had a type, he would have been perfect. In fact, McLaggen was way better than Gellert. For one, Aberforth could intimidate him easely. And he would never dare to touch his goats. He smiled as a plan began to form.

“He’s completely single. Free as bird.” he told a surprised McLaggen. “In fact, I think Diggory is right for once, you should go for it.”

He watched McLaggen splutter a reply. Even if his matching didn’t work it would annoy Gellert, which was always a plus in his book. 

“Guys.” Diggory almost whined, “Do you fulfill the application's form? I just remember it.” he passed a hand in his hair in agitation and sighed, “Merrythought wants it for next week.” 

“Yup. Did it days ago.” Potter said unconcerned. He snatched another piece of pie. Diggory gave him a betrayed look. 

“I did mine too.” McLaggen replied. “What about you Abe?” 

Aberforth hummed. He was, for a lack of better word, unconcerned with his graduation. He didn’t think it would change his life or anything. After school he had no grand career waiting for him, nor parents to impress.  
He had no idea what to do, maybe because he was free to do anything. His application's paper was safe somewhere inside their dorms, desperatly empty of ink or writing of any form from his part. 

“You still hadn’t written anything did you?” Henry guessed by his silence. “Listen. My parents already organized for me to work at the Ministry.” he told him, “My only consolation is that I negociated to be Auror instead of a boring desk-worker only. And you,” he stressed as he regarded him, “Can do bloody anything, and want to what? Own a pub?” 

Aberforth rolled his eyes, “It was a thought.” he defended, “I want to run my own buisness.” 

“But, this calls for money and –” Diggory trailed. 

“I don’t have any.” Aberforth finished in a sigh. 

“Well, think of something else.” Potter suggested, “I personnaly wanted to be Dragon Rider. Can you imagine it?” He beamed, his expression turning dreamy. 

“No, because I want to live.” 

“My parents said the same thing. And Professor Merrythought too.” he sighed, “You’re all so close-minded.” He lamented. 

“What ‘bout Auror?” Diggory interceded. “You’re not bad at Defence. You can even do a corporal Patronus. I’m so jealous.” He whined fully this time. 

Aberforth shrugged. “It’s not so hard.” 

“It totally is.” Henry answered quickly, his whole face became animated. “You know, you could try and apply to the Aurors. I’m gonna need a partner.” 

“You don’t need a partner. I have faith, you will find trouble on your own.” he told him in a wave of hand. “And working for the Ministry? Please.” He drawled as he rolled his eyes. 

“Why not?” Henry pushed, curious as ever. 

“Because.” He said with some finality. 

“What a developed answer.” Minerva muttered, proving that she could read and still intercede in a conversation just fine. 

“I guess your family history could play against you, if you were to enter the program.” Diggory said carefully. 

Aberforth gave him a hard look. “If I wanted to, I would. It’s just that I don’t see the point.” 

“Helping people?” Diggory suggered. Aberforth fully grimaced at this. “Or not.” 

“Then, could you help me practice the Patronus Charm? You know, since it’s easy.” Henry said, throwing his words back at him in challenge. 

At that Minerva’s head fully lifted to him. She regarded him with interest. He often found her cat eyes unsettling and now was not the exception. 

“Dunno.” Aberforth replied eyeing Potter instead, “Couldn’t you just think of something you like and leave me in peace?” 

“No. And peace is overrated. Peace is boring.” he told him, because of course Potter couldn’t be happy without some chaos happening near, to the point where he created it himself, “If you do your pub thing, you will have plenty of peace already. Come on.” he urged. “I’m going to be Auror, I may need it.” He rose his equivalent of the puppy eyes to him. Big chestnut eyes with, weirdly enough, freckles of gold into them, fixed him behind round glasses. He felt himself give a bit under his stare. 

Damn Potter, and his puppy look. 

He thought about it.  
Henry was not completely wrong, as much as it pained Aberforth to admit it. Potter was a magnet for trouble as much as a troublemaker, which meant that he could, technically, need the Patronus Charm. He huffed, he could already see how their practice would go: Potter, eager and vibrating with energy, and him, moody and irritable. Not a good mix, but then he guessed, he owned Potter for the all Quidditch's match they won, thanks to McGonagall. He pushed her into their team during their fourth year, Abe remembered how he thought she was just some serious girl, with her black hair tied in a severe bun and her quick mind who, everyone knew, almost ended-up in Ravenclaw. But, once put on a broomstick, she had become totally wild.  
Minerva McGonagall was fast proving to be one hell of a Seeker, and without Potter, they would probably have missed her out of blood prejudice or just plain prejudice. 

“Ok, but if you’re annoying, I’m out.” He warned him. 

“Yes!” Henry breathed, excited. 

“How the hell do you manage to make people forget all common sense and help you is beyond me.” Diggory wondered as he bit into another piece of pie. “Is it me, or did you get better at it, somehow?” He asked in a frown as if realising something. 

Henry waved the matter away. “It’s the Potter’s charm. It makes us irresistible.” He showed it by making a wide stupid grin. 

Minerva smiled at this. Aberforth had little doubt that she would find a way to follow Potter during their Patronus' practice. She had a thing for sliding silently somewhere, when Abe would have swore she wasn’t even near previously. It was disconcerting.  
And Potter seemed to have learnt the trick from her. It was not exactly the same, but he had managed to turn his natural sneakiness into an art form. Everyone knew he was the culprit but there were just no proof or witnesses. It was as if he as invisible as a ghost. 

Last month, someone had managed to make several Exploding Snap, well, exploded inside the Ravenclaw’s common room, resulting into an exchange of spells as the sounds startled the students, who in reaction, had started casting. It had been a right mess. Harmless mostly, but still. 

Two weeks ago, some Griffindor’s girls got their shampoo spiked with a sticking potion. Their hair had been stuck in risible ways. The potion’s effects had lasted two days. (And Abe knew they were the same girls who had an argument with Minerva just some days prior). 

Finally, three days ago, the Slytherins got their probably depressing common room, transformed into a glaring blue room, showered with snakes confetti from what he heard, traumatising the barely woken up students. Greengrass, the Snake's Prefect this year, had marched into the Great Hall that morning, her heels clicking against the floor as she broke the eerie silence of the morning. Her neat and usually wavy caramel hair had been ruffled when she had made a beeline for Potter. She headslapped him as soon as she came close enough to do it. She had left them to their breakfast after that, and it was without saying a word that she had joined her table. Potter had resumed his eating unfazed. 

“Still, are you sure you don’t wanna be Auror?” Diggory insisted, as he absently finished his dessert. “I mean, you could try it out and win some money in the meantime.” 

“I don’t think this is made for me.” Aberforth mused out loud. 

“Only way of knowing is to try.” Henry recited, before he smirked, and combined with his wild chocolate hair, it made him look awfully wicked. “Look, even McLaggen is going to try is luck at wooing your brother,” he pointed to the boy who regarded them nervoulsly with his chin. “Is McLaggen more brave than you, then?” 

Aberforth frowned and crossed his arms. “I’m not falling for that.” 

“Alright.” Henry told him, tranquil. 

“There’s no comparaison to make between McLaggen and I.” he insisted, “He once fainted while watching a Quidditch's match.” 

“It’s true.” Henry agreed, unperturbed. 

“In my defense, I didn’t have the time to eat breakfast that day.” McLaggen said weakly. 

“Take a part of pie now.” Diggory prompted him. 

“I am a Chaser for Merlin’s sake.” Aberforth continued, “I did plenty of dangerous stuff. I almost get hit by a bludger just to make our team win.” 

“I remember.” 

“A foolish move.” Minerva commented in a hum. 

“So, in what world, is McLaggen more brave than me?! I’m way more courageous!” He affirmed, waving his arms wildly to highlight the fact.

“I’m sure you are.” Henry assured him peacefully.

“Hey!” McLaggen protested.

“Yeah? Well, you better.” Aberforth huffed. “Because I’m going to try for the Aurors.” He declared firmly.

Henry’s grin was victorious. 

“Wow. What a surprising initiative.” Diggory congratulated, his voice flat, “When you realised what just happened,” he told Aberforth, “Just remember that we are all a little weak for Potter.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m working on 3/4 chapters at the same time because I want to be sure that all the action/interaction is working well, hence the little delay.  
> Thank you for your patience!

_Summer 1899 ___

__Albus was laying on his stomach on Gellert’s matress. Gellert, on the other side, seemed gone to the world. He slept on his side with his arm still around Albus’s hips. He seemed so peaceful right now, that Albus chose to let him be, even if it was technically the middle of the afternoon. But Gellert’s Visions left him so often restless, Albus had letters coming up in the dead of the night to attest this, so he was careful to not disturb him, now that Gellert had finally found slumber._ _

__Earlier, they had been debating on magical theories, curious about the ideas the other had, before they had been taken by… hum… another kind of curiosity._ _

__They went to Gellert’s bedroom at Bathilda’s (who was gone for two days for her research) in a playful chase. Then, the door had closed behind them, and they had frantically got rid off every layers of clothes, discarded now somewhere on the floor.  
Albus still reddened at the memory._ _

__Aberforth was going to be mad again, he mused, as he would inevitably come home late. He was going to question where he had been, once again. Albus was starting to run out of excuses, and Aberforth never trusted them anyway. Maybe, he should just tell him the truth…? He fingers tapped, the sound muffled against the confy matress.  
Not being able to predict his reaction was making him nervous._ _

__So to distract him until Gellert woke up, Albus decided to rummage through the room. He put the first shirt he found on him, Gellert’s it seemed, for it was as dark as the night.  
He bypassed the skull-hookah Gellert owned. He huffed at the way Gellert displayed it, on the top of his desk. Albus thought it was a bit morbid, even if it was efficient, in a very dramatic way. Perfect for Gellert then, he thought amused. He went for the shelves first, driven by curiosity at what Gellert could possibly have there._ _

__There was a quill, along several rolls of parchment. A bottle of ink, and some books._ _

__Albus chose one book, and flopped it down to read the cover. His eyes widened in surprise.  
He inspected the book closely and carefully, his hands running along the cover. He smiled when he noted the fixed spine. He leafed through the first pages, recognized the triangle, the circle, the vertical line drawn there (he remembered tracing it, biting his lower lip in concentration, his feather quill* tight around his fingers).  
It was Albus’s book, without doubts. The one his father had gifted him so long ago. The one Aberforth had damaged during an argument. Albus had given it to Bathilda, after they arrived in Godric’s Hollow, right after his father’s trial. He had hoped then, that someone as her, who loved books as much as she did, could repair it.  
She had taken it, hadn’t she? But if Albus recalled correctly, she had told him that she had been unable to fix it. She had never given it back to him. Instead, she had offered him another one._ _

__Yet, here it was, unbroken, and in the middle of Gellert’s possession._ _

__He laughed._ _

__“Hum?” Gellert mumbled, his eyes, heavy with sleep, blinking toward him._ _

__Albus came to sit on the edge of the bed and smiled widely, “You thief.” He accused him, as he gently tapped one finger on his nose_ _

__“Was?”_ _

__Albus laughed again. Honestly, it shouldn’t be surprising. Hadn’t Gellert stolen all of Albus already? His body, his mind, and he certainly took his heart too. It was almost logical that he owned his favorite book too.  
And hadn’t Albus taken almost as much as he gave? To Gellert’s laugh to his shirt._ _

__“Thief.” He repeated in a hush, as he leaned down to kiss his forehead._ _

__

__*  
1900, June, Saturday, 16th_ _

__“I can’t believe we made it.” Diggory said, eyeing the Fat Lady Portrait as they exited the Griffindor’s common coom. They were dressed into their full school’s uniform for the last time, coupled with a pointed black hat for the special occasion. The ceremony would begin soon, as most families had already arrived Hogwarts. Armando Dippet, their school’s Headmaster, was going to give a speech, right before the Quidditch’s match for the Year Cup could start. It was only after all this decorum, that they would have the trace on their wands lifted._ _

__“I can’t believe Aberforth made it.” Henry countered, as they stepped on the changing stairs,“You’re so bad at Potions.” He told him in a shake of head._ _

__“Hey.” Abe reprimanded weakly, not aknowledging that his non-total-failure at it, had been a surprise for him as well._ _

__“But, I managed to do a Patronus, so everything possible!” He preened, proud of the fact._ _

__“You managed a white smoke. Barely.” Aberforth reminded him. It had taken many tries, and a lot of headaches from Aberforth’s part. But he supposed it was something._ _

__“You won’t deepen my enthousiasm.” Potter told him in a bright smile._ _

__“What did you think of?” McLaggen asked Henry. “They say that the memory had to be powerful for a Patronus to appear.”_ _

__“I thought of dragons. Obviously.” He replied, as if it was evident, “And you, did you think of what you were going to tell Albus?” he grinned down at McLaggen, whose cheeks reddened dramatically, “Don’t worry, I will be your wingman my friend.” He declared as he put an arm around him in what Aberforth gathered, was supposed to be a conforting gesture._ _

__“I don’t need a wingman.” McLaggen muttered under his breath._ _

__“Please don’t.” Aberforth pleaded him, he actually needed this matching to work in order to exit Gellert from their life. “Let him be, ok?”_ _

__The three others boys regarded him in surprise._ _

__“You really care about it.” Diggory noted._ _

__“That’s so suspicious.” Potter quickly added._ _

__“Wh-why?” McLaggen questionned him._ _

__“For nothing.” he evaded. “Don’t you all become paranoid.”_ _

__Henry hummed while McLaggen frowned at him._ _

__Diggory exhaled, “I think I’m going to miss it, guys.” he admittted, “I mean, it had been seven years of our lifes… I was used to this school.”_ _

__“Holy Merlin’s beard.” Henry breathed as he let go of McLaggen. “You know I like you Daniel, but I forbid you to start with the nostalgia yet.”_ _

__“Everytime you call me Daniel, you remind me of my mother, right before she yells at me.” Diggory said._ _

__“That’s because you know you’re doing it wrong.” Henry replied without missing a beat, “Look, first, I’m way too sober to hear it. And second, wait a couple of months at least. There are rules.” He told him serioulsy, but then, Potter could sell the most craziest lies with a straight face, so._ _

__“But I’m feeling nostalgic now, Henry.”_ _

__“I’m going to help you think of something else then,” Potter generiously supplied. The stairs stopped and they stepped down from them to engage themselves into a busy corridor near the Great Hall. Some student’s family were already there and gushing at their children. A mother was righting her daughter’s hat, a son was running toward his waiting parents… It must be embarrassing, Aberforth decided, to be coddled like this. He ignored the spike of yearning it ignited in him. “Like the fact that the Griffindor’s team is playing against the Hufflepuff’s for the Cup in less than one hour. And may I remind you, that you promised to help me drench the Hufflepuff’s dorm with jellies if they win?”_ _

__“It’s going to be weird, watching a match instead of playing it.” Diggory mused before he blinked, “Wait. When did I promise you that?” He asked._ _

__“Yesterday.” Potter quickly moved on, “And let’s not forget that Aberforth’s mysterious little sister is coming.” His eyes lighted up in mischief._ _

__“You.” he waved a finger in warning at Henry’s face, “Forget about her.” He threatened._ _

__It slid off of Henry faster than water on a duck, “I wonder, what does she look like? Is she more like Albus or you?”_ _

__“Seriously, hand-off on my sister.” he said again, trying to put this idea out of Henry’s brain, “Or I will have to kill you.”_ _

__“Promises, promises.” A crystaline’s voice sang playfully, to his right. He turned toward it, as he felt an arm linking around his. He almost jumped out of his skin when he saw her._ _

__“Holy shit!” He cursed, taking two steps away from her. He bumped into Henry, and anyway, it didn’t shake her off, for she seemed stuck to his arm._ _

__“Hullo to you too.” Vinda grinned, amused and here._ _

__“Would you be… Vinda Rosier?” Diggory asked as he looked at her in unconcealed curiousity. “I saw a picture of you on the Daily Prophet.”_ _

__“I am. Pleasure to meet you, Mister Diggory. Mister Potter and Mister McLaggen.” She greeted._ _

__“How does she know our names?” Diggory asked in a faint voice, making sure that he was a good step away from her. She merely smiled wider at him, “Scary.” He whispered as he smiled back, uneasily._ _

__Potter, who despite knowning what the word ‘danger’ meant, didn’t care for it, smirked in delight. “Aberforth didn’t tell us his girlfriend was coming.”_ _

__Abe wasn’t blushing. Blushing was for those who had something to blush for. He was just… mortified, at his friends’ behaviour. Yes, that was it. His friends were all terrible._ _

__Vinda titled her head to the side, considering Henry with her clear eyes.  
To her credit, she was wearing a deep red dress. It ended up at her knees, full and fluffy looking, while the top was like a glove on her skin, perfectly made for her, and showing off her slim waist. She had little sleeves, barely covering her skin past the shoulders, the crimson fabric here wrinkled on purpose. Her black hair were waving lazily and coiffed neatly onto her left side. She wore a styled hat, how it kept on her head was a mystery, decorated with creamy white feathers, that gave her an aristocratic air._ _

__“It’s because, I didn’t outright tell him.” She finally replied unpertubated by the ‘grilfriend’ word._ _

__Aberforth, on the other hand, was deeply unsettled by the ‘girlfriend’ word. And the complete lack of denying. It probably didn’t mean anything.  
Right?  
Right._ _

__Henry gave Aberforth a very telling look, with exaggerate wide eyes and all. Diggory seemed merely happy to let this play out without him. In fact, he was even not so discreetly beginning to leave them to it. McLaggen for his part, was clearly considering this option as well, if the way he was eyeing Diggory’s exit was anything to go by._ _

__“Why didn’t you simply tell me you were coming instead of writing vague little sentences?” Aberforth asked her, a bit grumpy. Henry, on his side, elbowed him and mouthed ‘rude!’ at him. He glared at Potter, even though it didn’t deter him._ _

__Vinda took no offence of it anyway. “I wanted to surprise you. Does it bother you?” She asked, turning her clear eyes on him, full force._ _

__“N-no.” He stammered. He saw Henry rolled his eyes and he heard a definite ‘hopeless’._ _

__She smiled satisfied, “Then my surprise worked.”_ _

__“Tell her you like her dress.” Henry proposed as he whispered into his ear. Aberforth swatted him away. “So ungratful.” He told him in a normal volume while making a hurt face._ _

__“Go away.” Aberforth growled._ _

__“He’s very testy, isn’t he?” Henry asked Vinda instead._ _

__“Yes, I believe you’re right.” Vinda grinned at Potter._ _

__“Seriously, go away.”_ _

__“I hope, he’s more nice with you.” Potter continued._ _

__“Barely.” she said, “He didn’t even want us to try Hepatomancy on his goats.”_ _

__If Henry was shocked by her words, he concealed it perfectly. He shook his head in despair, “I hope for you he’ll come around. A little activity to do together is always good.”_ _

__“This is exactly what I thought. I had even choosen something with goats so he would like it.” She sighed a little, a delicate gesture that he was sure was calculated._ _

__Henry gave him a very disappointed look, “You could make an effort.”_ _

__Aberforth looked back and forth at them, unbelieving. “Do you know what the word ‘hepatomancy’ even mean?” He asked Henry._ _

__“It’s when you open up an animal in order to read with its entrails, no?” He wondered inoncently._ _

__“That’s pretty morbid.” McLaggen commented lowly._ _

__“Exactly!” he exclamed pointing at him, to show that he wasn’t the only one thinking so, “And this is all the reaction you have?” He asked at Potter._ _

__“It’s not my thing, but hey,” Henry shrugged, “I’m not judging.”_ _

__Aberforth blinked at him in shock, “You’re going to be a such a lame Auror.” he realized. “I like my goats alive and well, not dead and bleeding.” He grumbled._ _

__“Oh, you’re going to try for the Aurors?” Vinda asked Potter in interest._ _

__“Yes. The recruitments start in September. I hope to be taken.” He rubbed his two hands together in anticipation._ _

__“If they take you, the Ministry will be in tatters before the end of the year.” Aberforth flatly foresaw. He couldn’t see how Potter could stop himself from being himself. It was inevitable, really._ _

__“I hope you will be chosen, then.” She told Potter quite seriously._ _

__“Thanks!” he perked up. “That’s awfully nice.”_ _

__“She only wants to rule Britain after you had broken it from the inside.” Aberforth guessed._ _

__Henry gazed at him before he smirked, “Aberforth is trying for the Aurors too, did he tell you?” He slipped meaningfully._ _

__Aberforth grimaced. If this hadn’t turned into a sort of bet where his honour was at play, he would have taken the out right away.  
How did he let Potter convince him this it was a good idea was beyond him._ _

__Vinda’s surprised look was answer enough. “No, he didn’t.” she said, before a pensive expression took place on her face, “It seems as if it’s a far more popular carreer’s choice than I thought.”_ _

__“You know someone else who’s Auror?” He asked her._ _

__“No, only,” she smiled, “Someone who would have taken pleasure in interrogating people, I believe.”_ _

__“So someone creepy, in short.” Aberforth resumed._ _

__Weirdly, Vinda seemed pleased by this, “He can be so cute, don’t you think?” She said to Henry._ _

__“Cute? Now, I have to hear about this.” Henry smirked in delight at the prospect of juicy gossip’s material._ _

__“No, you don’t.” Aberforth said in a rush. Potter was, unfortunately out of pushing reach._ _

__“Say, did you meet Aberforth’s sister?” Potter asked her instead._ _

__“I did.” Vinda divulged, “She’s near in the big Pendulum, with Albus.”_ _

__Henry’s eyes lighted up. “You’re awsome.” he breathed at her, “See ya!” He waved at Aberforth and winked (winked!), before rushing away, dragging with him an uneasy Felix McLaggen by the sleeve of his robe._ _

__“Why?” He whined to Vinda._ _

__She lifted one elegant eyebrow, “You wanted him to leave, he left.”_ _

__“But now he’s gonna pester Ariana.” He sighed._ _

__“I think she can handle him.” she said unconcerned. One of her hand was still resting on his arm. “I wonder, do the kitchens house-elves have a frying pan we could use?”_ _

__“What.” he frowned at her, after some thinking, no logical explanation came to him, “What would you want to do with it?” He asked her, lost._ _

__“I don’t know.” she smirked, a bit deviously, “Many things.”_ _

__Aberforth stared at her for a bit, before he shook his head. He had no delusions, he never thought he would understand her._ _

__She changed subject with ease, “I have yet to tell you about my traumatic experience.” she told him with a satisfied smile that contrasted with her words, “But first, did you hear that the woman who abducted me is in prison? Chateau d’If is said to be cold and depressing. What a fortunate thought, mon Ministère had, don’t you think?”_ _

__

__*  
“It’s strange to be here again.” Albus thought out loud._ _

__He watched the soon-to-be-graduated students with their pointed hats and excited grins, surrounded by their families or friends. He didn’t feel nostalgic per se, his own graduation had been concealed as he was to come home before the ceremony could happen._ _

__He wondered if his mother would have come. She so rarely used to leave their house, choosing to stay with Ariana at all times.  
He wished she had spared more days for him, before she had run out of them completely. Albus still marveled at it sometimes, how Kendra could have declared that Ariana needed her so fiercely, without once wondering if her sons needed her as well. A mystery for another time, he guessed as he needed to focus.  
The cloak of invisibility was, finally, within their reach._ _

__Albus was very torn about it. He liked Henry Potter, even considered him a friend, and he doubted that he would simply let them steal it. Henry protected what was his preciously, and wouldn’t react well to people trying to rob him._ _

__Also, Albus might have begun to wonder if they truly needed the cloak._ _

__Its purpose was to hide. It was the exact opposite of what they wanted to do. Lifting the International Statue of Secrecy was for wizards to finally be seen. They were hiding enough without adding an invisibility cloak into it.  
But Albus was also curious, and seeing a Hallow, finally having a confirmation of their very existence, wasn’t something he could pass up.  
And Gellert wouldn’t be deterred without at least trying, this he knew, so he would help him try. He showed him a hidden way leading straight to the Room of Requirement. Graduates had their trunk, with all their belongings, inside their dorms until they left.  
Henry might have put the cloak there, along his other possession. Albus had described to Gellert how to find and enter the Griffindor’s dormitory. He would join him later, disappearing discreetly while the match was in full play.  
He doubted anyone would notice his absence, and Vinda could divert attention if needed.  
Especially, Aberforth’s attention.  
Now, if Henry carried the cloak on him, well… Albus was on his way to get this covered too._ _

__“It’s strange to be here, period.” Ariana added, breaking his musing, “I never thought I would set a foot inside this school.” she divulged, craning her neck up to watch the little folded parchments happily flapping their wings of paper inside the corridors. “Are your Spectrespecs working?” She wondered._ _

__Albus tapped on the glasses’ frames he was wearing, “I have yet to see any Wrackpurts.” he hummed as he looked around, searching them. “What did you decide about the French’s school? Beauxbâtons?” he absently inquired now, while they were alone, with Honoria engrossed in a conversation with the Herbology’s professor near the lake (they had been talking about aquatic’s plants and their uses, right before they both decided to check them for themselves), and Aberforth away._ _

__Ariana turned wide eyes to him, “How do you know about this?”_ _

__“Honoria told me.” at her panicked look, he added, “Not Aberforth, for now though. Otherwise, he’ll be there, and loudly asserting his view on it, I’m sure.” He told her around an agreeable smile. Aberforth disapproving* of it was inevitable, really._ _

__She seemed appease at this.“I hadn’t decided yet.” she admitted in a hush, “I want to go, but a part of me still think I’m not allowed to.” she fiddled with her hair, twisting a blond strand she had tied with a white ribbon around her fingers in a nervous manner. “What do you think of it?”_ _

__He chose his answer carefully. “I think, if you want to try it, you should.” he told her softly, “You had enough people telling you what to do Ariana. It’s time you decide what you want or don’t, for yourself.” Albus wanted to see what she could be, without his mother hiding her behind locked doors, and his brother over-protective nature shadowing her, “The real question therefore is, what do you want to do?”_ _

__Ariana regarded him for a long time. She seemed surprised, and Albus was left to wonder, when was the last time someone had let her decide something for herself. He felt suddenly, immensely remorseful. He hadn’t checked on her as much as he should have. Aberforth was right, he was an awful brother. Albus could only hope she would let him be better from now on._ _

__“I want to go to Beauxbâtons with Vinda.” She stated, her voice wavering a bit, as of she thought he would deny her this._ _

__Albus smiled proudly at her. “Then, you will go to Beauxbâtons.” she smiled back, tentative, “Now, we’ll just have to break the news to Aberforth.” He cheerfully said. Aberforth needed to learn to share their little sister. Albus guessed there would be a lot of sulking in the immediate futur._ _

__“He’s not gonna like it.” She predicted in a grimace._ _

__Albus grinned, “No, I guess he’s not.” He personally hadn’t liked being almost Obliviated last summer either, after all. Aberforth would have to cope._ _

__“Hey. You’re really back.” He heard someone said._ _

__Albus turned to a grinning Henry Potter, his pointy hat neatly put on the top of his head, and Felix McLaggen, who appeared to be uncomfortable inside his own graduation’s robe._ _

__He smiled. “Yes, it seems as if I always end up here.”_ _

__Henry laughed, “Yeah, well, I hope I will find my way out. I don’t want to grow old here.” At this, they shook hands. “What are you wearing?” He questionned as his hand made a motion to his eyes._ _

__“A little souvenir I bought from the Exposition in Paris.” Albus explained. Gellert had called it a waste of money, but Albus had liked their bright design. In the end, even Gellert had to admit that they could be useful. (Of course it had taken Albus a month of working on them, and the praise had been given rather reluctantly, but Albus took it for the clear victory it was.)_ _

__“Oh, they’re nice!” Felix said._ _

__“Can you even see with this?” Henry asked around a smile._ _

__Albus smiled too, his eyes twinkling in amusement behind his glasses. “So well, I believe I can see the invisible.”_ _

__Henry laughed. “You hadn’t changed. I heard, you were still busying yourself with Transfiguration’s articles.”_ _

__Albus silently acquiesed. “You read them?”_ _

__“No. But McLaggen read them, right?” He nudged at the boy next to him._ _

__“I – I did.” the boy in question blurted, “I thought they were truly well written. It was fascinating to read.”_ _

__Albus almost blushed at how heartfelt the compliment sounded. “Thank you, you’re really nice.”_ _

__Henry smiled in satisfaction. “So… ” he trailed, “You’re not presenting us?” He teased gently, montionning at Ariana, who had stayed silent so far._ _

__“Of course. Excuse me.” he apologized quickly, “Ariana, this is Henry Potter, and Felix McLaggen,” his sister made a little bow with her head, “ Felix, Henry, this is Ariana Dumbledore, my sister.”_ _

__Felix nodded shyly at her in greeting while Henry returned her bow playfully. “I didn’t think I would ever meet you, to be honest.” Henry confided to her, “You’re all Aberforth doesn’t talk about.”_ _

__“Huh?” she tilted her head in thoughts. “You mean, I’m all he talks about, right?”_ _

__“No.” he refuted, definitive. “You’re definitely non-spoken. Almost deliberately so, dare I say. And I’m awfully curious, you see.” he leaned close to her, as if sharing a secret, “This is my only flaw.”_ _

__She blinked at him, unsure it seemed, to what make of him. Albus believed this wasn’t a rare occurrence for Henry. Still, it would be better if Henry didn’t decide to snoop too much into Ariana’s past. Albus smiled._ _

__“Tell me, who’s playing for the Cup this year?” he interceded in the conversation smoothly. “Aberforth had given me so very little details.” He pretended, for he knew exactly who played. A little white lie had never hurt anyone, he mused._ _

__“It’s Griffindor against Hufflepuff.” Henry replied, his attention diverted for now. “I can’t believe Aberforth, this is crucial information!” he exclamed, animated now, “Minerva is playing, she’s going to take over the captain position since Wood is graduating as well.” He proudly told them._ _

__“What’s her position in the team?” Ariana asked Henry._ _

__“Seeker. You will recognize her easely, she’s the one winning.”_ _

__“Does she still wish to become a professional player?” Albus asked him. Minerva was a perfect subject to occupy Henry with. Safe and sure. Henry’s fondness for her was obvious, always been, ever since she stumbled into the Griffindor’s table after minutes and minutes of indecision and silence from the Sorting Hat’s part._ _

__“You bet.” His eyes lighed up in excitement , “I’m sure she can do it. I mean, she’s so good.” He praised._ _

__“I’m sure she will manage it as well.” Albus assured. Minerva McGonagall was a fierce and smart witch. He had little doubt about her success. “What about you, Felix? What are your projects for the future?”_ _

__Felix’s eyes widened in alarm, though why they did, Albus had no idea. He had always been a bit fidgety, Albus remembered the time he had stepped up to help some students with their Potions’ skills. Felix had been downright nervous that day, in the classroom their professor had agreed to open for their practice, though Albus had attributed this more to the delicate ingredients they had been dealing with, and to the fear of his cauldron exploding, than something else._ _

__“I’m,” he started in a small voice, “I’m going to be journalist.”_ _

__“He had been taken at the Quibbler.” Henry supplied helpfully._ _

__“Are you going to write articles for them, then?” Ariana wondered._ _

__“Probably not at first, but, soon, I hope.” He told her in a tentative smile._ _

__“Congratulation, ” Albus smiled at Felix, “You must be very proud.”_ _

__Felix nodded in quick succession. Henry sighed. “We should go. Dippet is about to start his –hopefully- short speech.”_ _

__“You’re right.” Albus acknowledged. “Let’s attend together.” He proposed._ _

__“Amazing idea.” Henry smiled meaningfully at Felix. Albus frowned at them in confusion. “My parents are going to be late anyway, but they assured me that they would be there for the end of the match.” he informed them, “My mother is a big Quidditch supporter.” Henry confided, amused it seemed, by his parents’ excentricities._ _

__The four of them began to make their way to the field. Honoria would certainly join them later. Albus adjusted his glasses, and watched Henry talking with Ariana as Felix asked him questions on his Transfiguration’s article._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, should our guys succeed in stealing the cloak? Tell me what you think of it!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your comments, I really appreciate it <3

Dippet’s speech was as boring as expected, Aberforth thought. He droned on and on about adulthood, responsabilities and ‘the new life opening its arms to them’, or something profound like this.  
Stuck in the Quidditch’s stands with the rest of Dippet’s unfortunate public, he was busy sending daggers at Potter everytime he leaned over Ariana to tell her, whatever it was that Potter was telling her. She seemed mostly bemused, which annoyed Aberforth greatly. He gave her lessons (lessons!), and showed her the right way to swat someone, and for what? Did none of his siblings learn anything from his ‘how to ditch an annoying brat’ class? Was something not clear in his teaching? Aberforth had thought the tittle to be explicit enough, but apparently not.  
All this energy given for a good cause, and nothing to show for it. He sighed audibly. Fine, he would do it by himself, damnit.

But for now, Vinda seemed unwilling to let go of his arm, so maybe yetting Potter off his sister would have to be postponed. Aberforth felt her presence by his side keenly, her floral perfume surrounding him as surely as her hand resting on his arm.  
(He was not blushing.)

On the other side, Albus was speaking animatly with McLaggen, so at least his matchmaking might play out right, and who knew, this might be the thing that pushed Gellert out of their lifes for good.  
(One could dream.)

The Headmaster finished his speech (finally), and the players began to enter the field. The Hufflepuff’s team came first, the whole space becoming black and yellow. They were soon followed by the Griffindor’s, and the stadium changed into red and gold as the players came. Minerva McGonagall came up in the front as the new captain. They were far more dashing than the Hufflepuff, in Aberforth’s unbiased opinion.  
He heard Henry cheering loudly. Ariana was clapping her hands together in fevor, taken it seemed, by the general enthusiasm inside their stand. Albus was as immune to it as he usually was. The two of them would probably have more things to say to one other if he had expressed an interest in Quidditch.  
Even Elphias had played it, while Albus had remained unimpressed with the game.

But today, Aberforth found his brother positively distracted. His eyes, hidden behind the most tasteless glasses Aberforth ever saw, (and he paired this up with a plum waistcoat with a floral’s pattern, along an equally blazing plum trouser. One word: why?) were sending furtive looks at Henry. Albus was watching the match start absently. His fingers were drumming, tapping a fast rhythm on his legs. It was as if he couldn’t wait to be out there.  
Or as if he was awaited somewhere else.  
Aberforth frowned.

“Why are you making this face for?” Vinda asked him, “The Hufflepuff have yet to mark any points and yet, you seem already indisposed.”

He rose one eyebrow at her. “Indisposed? Seriously?”

“Would you prefer another term?” she smiled at him, amused, “Bothered, maybe?”

Aberforth huffed, “I’m not bothered. I’m… interrogative.” He settled for.

“Are you?” she tilted her head, and regarded him curious, “About what?”

“What was the ‘rest’ you mentionned in your letter?” he questionned, narrowing his eyes at her. “And what truly happened during your kidnapping?”

“Abduction.” She absently corrected.

“If you prefer.” he personally didn’t see the difference, “So?” He prompted expectant.

“The ‘rest’ was only my visit today,” she began, apparently unoffended to be interrogated. “You keep going back to it.” she noted. “Aren’t you happy to see me?” she wondered, looking a bit deceived.

Aberforth’s cheeks flushed, and he backtraked. “I… I mean, yes, I mean… ” he trailed, a bit awkwardly. How did you say to someone that you were really happy to have them there, without telling them that? Merlin, social interactions could be so hard. It was way easier with his goats. “I’m gald.” He shutted himself up before he could stammer something utterly embarrassing.

Vinda smiled, pleased, at him. “I’m glad too.”

Aberforth absolutely didn’t blush at this. If some, later, claimed that he did, he would deny it. The sun was high, the air of the day was warm. There, nothing more.  
He managed to relax during two seconds, before he remembered the not-gift he had bought her, now sleeping somewhere inside his trunk. He tensed and Vinda, noticing this, gave him a questionning look.

“I,” he started, “I need to go fetch something. Inside?” he babbled as she continued to watch him blankly, “I won’t be long.” He said as he get out of her grip and out of his seat. He started to leave before he could lose courage. He barely caught her eyes widening in surprise.

“Wait –” She called after him, starting to rise up too.

“I’ll be back, promise.” He assured her.

He completely missed the urgent gaze she shared with his brother or the way her lips turned into a displeased moue.  
He had a not-gift to retrieve.

*  
Gellert thought Hogwarts’ castle was a bit hazardous.  
From what Albus told him, there was a forest near full of dangerous species. They held classes there, and sometimes, even detentions at night. Rumors had it, that there were werewolves lurking inside, along centaurs and unicorns. A legend talked about a malediction one of the school’s founders left behind which should activate ‘when the time came’. Its goal was to kill half-bloods. There were ghosts walking down the corridors and trying to scare off the students that had the misfortune to cross them. 

And people thought Durmstang was Dark?

To add to this, they teached Divination with tea leaves, an insult to all Seers. He understood Albus discarding the whole class completely, in fact he wanted to meet the one who dared teaching it. He had a couple of chosen words for them.

And there was also a place full of magical items, probably bordering on illegal, accessible if one knew how to find the room.  
He stepped inside said room through a little wardrobe, and wasn’t it bizarre to get out of it, to push the creaky wooden’s door from the inside instead of the outside?  
He righted his vest as he climbed out, throwing a glance at the Vanishing Cabinet. It appeared so ordinary standing here, looking like any other furniture instead of what it truly was. Gellert wondered if the school’s Headmaster even knew the kind of thing his castle was holding inside its walls.  
The Room of Requirement was full of old things, each one of them seemed to have been put here only to gather the dust. Everything seemed to be still, but the calm atmosphere only made him wonder what could be hidding under this pretense.  
He spared some minutes to explore the place. Albus wouldn’t be able to leave before the match begin, and Gellert should find his way to the Griffindor’s dormitory easely enough now that he had been told where and what to search for.

One object, in particular, caught his eyes.  
  
He couldn’t explain why it did, perhaps, it was because unlike the rest it stood fierce and imposing. It was covered by a drape of sort, and Gellert took it off carefully, not knowing what to expect on the other side, but it only revealed a foot tall mirror. He touched the reflecting surface; it was cool under his fingers, but he could feel the magic humming from it.  
He retracted his hand quickly, and as he inspected it more closely, he noticed the inscription written at the top. He had to crane his neck up to read it, and even then, it took him a minute to translate the message engraved there.

“I show not your face, but your heart's desire.” He finally recited out loud. 

He looked back again at the object in curiosity now, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary. Maybe this thing wasn’t even working, he mused, maybe it needed a spell to be activated. But then he noticed, the wand his reflection was holding, and how unlike to his it was. It was a couple of inch longer, Gellert had rarely, if never, seen such a long wand. The wood was different too, straighter; looking unyielding and unbending, as well as lighter. There were, here and there, little pearls of woods ponctuating its lengh.

The more Gellert stared at it, the more he was sure; this was supposed to be the elder wand.

The other him smiled, wicked, then, before twirling the magical stick between his fingers, showing off. Gellert ignored the display and instead, stayed focused on the wand.  
It seemed so close. If Gellert outstreched his arm, he could almost believe he could grab it. But he knew it was only this; an illusion made by a tempting mirror. Losing sight of what was real could be a dangerous thing for a Seer. Many had ended up mad because of this. Gellert refused to end up with demencia, like some of his ancestor, or worse, to start thinking a pink dress could go well with a green and yellow coat as his grandmother so liked to believe.

He was wondering if the mirror was showing him how he, Gellert, thought the elder wand looked like or if it was truly how it was – he bet Albus would have a theory about it - when is reflection wavered suddently, like a ricochet dropping inside a clear water. The wand disappeared as fast as it came. He watched it fade from his reflection’s fingers in dismay. The other him held his now empty hand out, and Gellert frowned, wondering what he was even expecting; but then fingers, from outside the mirror’s frame, settled inside his reflected palm lightly, a feather touch that seemed uncertain at first, before fully closing his fingers in his reflection’s waiting hold. Albus came into view as he was almost yanked toward Gellert.  
The other Gellert broke into a smile then. He looked so happy even though he probably lost the most powerful wand in wizard’s History, and -

He shook his head and made himself look away. He reminded himself that he didn’t have time for this. He was needed elsewhere.

He rapidly exited the room before he could be tempted to stay longer, and changed into his Animagus’ form as soon as he was out. It was maybe more tricky to walk like this, but it was far more discreet. He wandered into some corridors before he found the moving stairs. He let them took him next to a wall displaying a huge painting of an even more bigger woman.  
The Fat Lady, as Albus had called her. 

“Meow.” He said loudly enough to attract her attention.

She teared her eyes from the vanity mirror she was admiring herself in. She cooed when she noticed him. “Aww. Aren’t you cute?” she made kissing noises and Gellert barely refrained a shudder, “Another familiars who lost itself. Poor thing.” she pitied him, her face making an exaggerate moue, “Go inside and find your master’s trunk fast. The house-elves are coming soon to fetch them.” She warned him as she opened the frame of her painting. He gladly trotted inside.

Inside, the whole place was covered in red and gold, and Gellert internally grimaced. These houses were truly ridiculous. He didn’t understand how Albus could have looked at this for seven years and not be sick of it. He still wore his Griffindor’s scarf fondly, and it had been half the reason Gellert had chosen a red and yellow wool for the socks he had made for him last christmas.  
This was bordering on obssessive, he decided when he saw that even the pillows of the couch were red and gold.

He rapidly passed the common room, and he followed the direction he had been given. He hopped on one stair at a time, and as he came into the seventh year boy’s dorm, he was faced with a new problem; as six trunk were disposed next to six beds.

He spotted Aberforth’s trunk easely (a picture of a baby white goat put onto it, unsurprising) and couldn’t resist scratching it with his claws. There, he thought smugly. He might have been purring by the time he finished destroying it.  
He then inspected the others five. He circled around them, trying to detect the energy of a Deathly Hallow. Surely, a powerful magical object such as the cloak of invicibility should emect something. But nothing came from the first two he looked at. But as he went toward the third one, he caught a faint sent. Something old and frozen. Gellert’s cat instinct wanted to flee away from it. But, as he was more than a simple cat, he didn’t.  
He casted a non-verbal Alohomora. He heard the lid of the case unlock softly, but he barely had the time to be satisfied, before he realized that his little spell had apparently activated some sort of alarms. Gellert cursed. Some people could be so paranoid, he thought. He was about to transform back and take care of those wards, when a man stormed inside the dorm. It was, unfortunately, not Albus, but Aberforth, who immediately zeroed on him.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, his tone a fine line between outright accusing and interrogative.

“Meow.” He lazily told him, for it was true.

Aberforth took a deep breath that betrayed his, already, growing impatience. “Honestly, I don’t know why I’m asking anymore.” he tiredly massaged his temples. Gellert thought that was probably the most sensible thing Albus’s brother ever said. It would be better for everyone’s sake, if Aberforth learnt to not snoop into other’s business. “Just, you know, shoo.” He made hands gestures to go with his words, as if Gellert hadn’t got them just fine already.

He sat, stubbornly, next to Potter’s trunk and fixed him with a steady gaze.

“Really?” Aberforth snorted, “What now? You gonna take your nap here or something?” he questionned. His eyes then travelled to his own trunk, and he shouted in outrage, “Did you scratch my picture of Blanchette?!”

Gellert did the cat equivalent of rolling his eyes. Such a tiring individual. Some people actually had to steal centuries old artefact here. 

“What are you doing here?” a new voice asked, startled, “Am I interrupting your conversation?”

Gellert turned his eyes toward the newcomer. The man wore a dark robe coupled with a pointed hat, like Aberforth. A new graduate, then.

“Don’t be stupid, Potter.” Aberforth grumbled moodily, likely still sore about his precious goat’s picture.

Gellert was staring at him in more interest. Brown hair, big glasses. Albus had described him well. But Aberforth had never been part of their plan. He was, as usual, unnecessary invading their careful scheming.

“Well, if you’re not having a private meeting with a cat, which you ditch Rosier for –honestly – then the question remains: what are you doing here?” One of Potter’s hand was on his wand, a startling clear wood stick. On edge. 

Gellert’s tail moved, as he mused over his options.  
He would, gladly, let Potter curse Aberforth, while he took off with the cloak. But Potter was eyeing him, more distrustful it seemed of a cat, than of Aberforth  
A pity.

“I didn’t ditch Vinda!” Aberforth denied, “I was searching for – for,” he trailed, “That’s not the important part! And I could ask you what you’re doing here as well!” 

His defence was so weak, Gellert thought. It still amazed him that him and Albus were related. Potter rolled his eyes, clearly agreeing with him.

“Is the cat yours?” Henry Potter inquired. Aberforth visibly bristled, just as Gellert hissed at the mere suggestion. “So that’s a ‘no’ then?” He said nonchalantly, thought Gellert noticed that the grip of his hand tightened.

“This thing,” Aberforth started as he pointed at him. Gellert regarded his fingers dance next to his face and bit into one in retaliation (he was no ‘thing’). Aberforth made a pained sound and he quickly snatched his hand back. “Is a menace.” he continued between a clenched jaw as he nursed his abused finger. “And it’s absolutely not related in any way to me.”

Gellert internally smirked. Ah, if only he knew. He longed for the day he could throw their blood pact to his face (figuratively speaking). His expression would be a delight, he bet. For now though, he would be content to get rid of him. Today, if possible.

“Alright.” Potter was eyeing them wearily, “On another note, I think McLaggen is this close to confess to Albus.” He told Aberforth in an excited tone. Gellert’s ear moved at Albus name, and… Mc-who now?

“Huh. Really?” Aberforth wondered, incredulous.

“Don’t sound so shocked, I’m the best wingman.” he huffed at Aberforth disbelieving face, “Which is why I know that leaving Rosier behind like this, is a no-no.”

“I didn’t lea-” he cut himself off when he saw the flat look Potter was giving him, “You know what? Forget it. I’m just…” he trailed as he spared a look at Gellert, and without reason, sneered. “So happy about McLaggen and Albus.” he smiled broadly, a strange expression for his face, more used to scowl, “Finally, they’re going to be together. They took their time, but Merlin knows they had been getting in that direction for years. Years.” he repeated loudly. “So glad, they realized their feelings,” he insisted on the words, “For each other.”

Potter frowned in confusion at Aberforth, “Why are you so weird?”

Meanwhile, Gellert’s claws were digging painfully into the carpet covering the dorm’s ground, wishing it was Aberforth’s skin instead of this thick material.  
Rationally, he knew Aberforth was only making things up to anger him. But Potter had mentionned it first, and if Aberforth had every reasons to be a pain, Potter didn’t even know who he was, so he couldn’t be saying this on purpose.  
Which meant that there was a man out there, with Albus right now, who was trying to court him.  
This was unaccepatable.

“And Felix is such a nice guy too.” Aberforth continued to wax poetry on the man, and Gellert barely resisted the urge to bite his fingers again. “Pretty sure he never got involved with Dark magic.”

There was a beat of silence, during which Aberforth looked down at him with intent. Gellert glowered at him silently. He was glad that he ruined his stupid goat’s picture. That was the last he deserved for being such a nuissance.

“You’re freaking me out sometimes.” Potter told his friend.

“I’m perfectly normal, compared to some.” Aberforth defended hotly, turning his attention to Potter as he did so, and Gellert used this opportunity to act.

He transformed back, his body and vision changing along him, and Aberforth, who was apparently still traumatised from last winter, hastly covered his eyes, thus reacting exactly as Gellert had anticipated. He even spared a hand for Potter, who let out a surprised sound, obscuring both of their visions for now. Gellert smirked as he righted his sleeves. He had managed to make his clothes shift along him after months of practise under Albus’s expert eyes. (He might have pretended to fail during some extra weeks. His naked mishap often leading to… something else.)  
As Aberforth was rapidly coming out of his fear of seeing too much of his form, and was on his way to drop his hands, Gellert aimed his wand at him, pointing it right between his eyes.

“Somnolus.” He intoned. Aberforth’s eyes went comically wide as the spell hit, before his whole body fell, all his weigh dropping onto the floor. Gellert watched it impassively. “Don’t go around complaining,” he warned at the sleeping and now, snoring figure of Aberforth, “You almost begged for this.” He swung his wand in the air. Now, this left only him and a shocked Potter. 

“What the hell?” the man in question said, his own wand fully trained on him now, “Who are you?”

“Someone interested by a certain possession you have.” He trustfully replied as he bypassed Aberforth’s lax form. Potter took a step or two backward, even as Gellert closed on him.

“You’re after my cloak.” Potter stated as he studied him.

“Indeed.” Gellert smiled, pleased that he was spared a boring and possibly long explanation; he still needed to find Mc-whatever-was-his-name after this. “So, you know what is it, then?” His fingers were feeling the wood of his wand. He had yet to rise it at Potter.

“I know enough.” he replied, terribly vague, “I know, I’m not giving it to you.” Potter steady his grip on his wand, openly defying him now.

“Well.” Gellert drew his too. Together they bowed. “Let’s not be said I didn’t ask politely first.”

*  
Henry didn’t have the cloak on his person.  
The magic used to make someone or something invisible left a distinct mark, a sparkle. It was advanced magic after all, and those kind of spells always stood out from the rest. A fact that Albus used to make his Spectrespecs aware of all invisible’s being, instead of only Wrackpurts.

And right now, his glasses didn’t detect any trace of it.

Of course, the Hallow could be an exception, but Albus thought this was unlikely. The magic used for the cloak must only be more powerful, but not different in the end, than another invisiblity cloak.  
He took them off his face, and pocketed them inside his waistcoat. It was disappointing, but not overly so, after all, Gellert must already be inside the Griffindor’s common room.

Albus was wondering how he could exit Felix’s enthousiam, when first, Aberforth had left, closely followed by Henry, who had nearly stormed out under the surprised eyes of Ariana. Albus had a bad feeling.  
He shared another urgent look with Vinda, they needed to get out of there and now. He was halfway through making up an excuse, someone had to check and see why Henry had gone after all, when he heard a sound of impact followed by a distinctive ‘crack’. It generated a huge commotion inside the stands.

“A broom breaking?” Ariana wondered out loud as she stood along the others spectators who were all squinting their eyes against the blazing sun, trying to see what was happening in the air, way past the clouds.

“Maybe.” Albus replied, looking up as well, his leave forgotten for now. “Who was up there?” He asked as he had been to distracted to really follow the match.

“The Hufflefuff’s Seeker along –” Vinda started.

“Look!” Felix cut her off, and pointed at the sky, “They’re here!”

The Hufflefuff’s Seeker suddently went down, he bumped into one of the stand rather violently, before he ended up rolling on the ground. He shook his head and slowly got up, alright it seemed, if shaken. He was closely followed by a Griffindor’s player, who unlike him, had their broom snapped into two, and was desperately clinging into it even as they free fell. 

“They’re going too fast.” Vinda remarked in a grave tone.

“The palyer –” Felix realized as his clear eyes widened in alarm.

Screamed. Albus recognized the voice at once.  
Minerva.  
He took out his wand and pointed it on her. Took a deep breath. Concentrated on her and only on her.

“Wingardium Leviosa.” He intoned firmly.

At first, his spell didn’t seem to work, for she was still falling. She was getting so close to the ground. Catching her demanded more than this now.  
He clenched his jaw. He didn’t have the time to cast another spell. He pushed on this one instead, his magic crackling into the air around him as he put more power besides it. He knew he had her, only when the pressure on his wand increased. His fingers curled around the dark wood. She was heavy, Merlin, and Vinda hadn’t been wrong, she had been falling rapidly. Which meant that now he had to lift her, and all the weight she was gaining from her fall, at once. Gravity, he cursed. His arm began to lower.

“Wingardium Leviosa.” he heard someone cast above him. He spared a glance up, unwilling to totally break his concentration in fear of dropping Minerva. Galatea Merrythought was standing, her long blue night dress cutting a stark contrast against the dull brown of the stand. She had mimicked him, by pointing her wand at Minerva.

The weigh became more bearable. He focused only on his task.  
I have you, he thought, his eyes glued to her. Minerva’s fall slowed gradually, until she touched the ground gently. Albus let go then, ending the spell as he ripped his wand away form her, his old professor matching him perfectly. It had been a close call, he thought. Far too close.  
He took some steps backward, and tried to calm his breathing a little.

He gazed upward again, even as Merrythought was stepping down to join him. Her rich blond hair bounced as she stepped down, and when she joined him, she gave him a beaming smile. “I missed your quick mind, Albus.” She tapped her wand against her temples in a playful manner, her green eyes crinkling in mirth.

He smiled. “Thank you, professor.” He wasn’t sure he could have succeed without her help.

“Galatea, please.” She demanded.

“Galatea, then.” He agreed in a grateful nod.

Albus looked around him. Vinda seemed to have taken this opportunity to leave. Albus contemplated following her, but -  
But, his little display of magic had not gone unnoticed. Every eyes who were not fastened on Minerva, were on him. Leaving was therefore, not an option anymore.  
Minerva was gazing at him in shock. She was swaying even as she put herself back into her feet. But she was holding his eyes, ‘Thank you’ she mouthed at him. Albus merely smiled at her in reply, relieved.

“This was amazing!” Felix exclamed next to him, soon joined by Ariana. It made him huff a laugh.

Minerva smiled back at him before she opened her hand. There, resting inside her palm, was the snitch. She rose it up to the stupefied eyes of the crowd.  
It shone in the afternoon’s light, but not as much as her.


	10. Chapter 10

Duelling inside the narrowed space that was the Griffindor’s dorm was not ideal. For one, Gellert had to be cautious and not bump into one of the bed (or Aberforth…). For two, Potter knew the place better.  
Gellert’s spells had yet to hit his evading adversary. Potter, when he couldn’t outright counter his spells, was quick to duck behind a bed, before trying to curse him from his position next to the floor. But Gellert hadn’t been the best student at Durmstang for nothing. He countered Potter’s attack and threw another one at him. Wandlessy and wordlessly this time.  
Potter literally couldn’t see this one coming at him, and was, therefore, completely unprepared for it. It struck him, his body bluntly pushed into the nearest wall. He hit it in a ‘humf’. Gellert, then, desarmed him with a quick Expelliarmus.  
Potter’s wand flew to him, much to his owner's consternation.

“You freaking cheated.” he accused, glaring at him from his position on the ground. “This is so not the rules of duels.” Potter said, hair dishevelled as his hat had fallen during their exchange along his glasses. Both items were resting on the floor, not far away from him. Gellert wondered what was Potter waiting for. Shouldn’t he want his glasses back at least? “This is not how people at Hogwarts fight. You’re not from here, are you?”

“Not exactly.” Gellert confirmed, twirling Potter’s wand between his fingers. Potter eyes it with a pout. His gaze appeared to be clear. Focused. Shouldn’t he be squinting more? He frowned a bit even as he said, “I was a Durmstrang’s student.”

Potter muttered something unflattering about ‘cheating russians’ and ‘Dark magic’. “You didn’t hold back.” he patted the side he just hit with a grimace, before he slowly went to his feet. “And you came all the way here just for my cloak?”

“It’s not a simple invisibility cloak and you know it.” he told Potter whose unfazed expression confirmed what Gellert suspected. He knew for the Hallows. “It’s far more than this.”

Potter’s expression became perplexed, “What are you going to do with it?”

“Nothing specific.” he replied casually, “I actually wish to reunite the three Hallows.”

There was a pause during which only Aberforth’s soft snores could be heard. “This was brutally honest.” Potter finally remarked in a breath.

“Obliviating you won’t be much work, I’m afraid.”

Potter seemed almost offenced at this for a second, before he scolded, “Well, since you’re not holding back, I don’t see why I should.”

Gellert wanted to scoff at this. He would leave with the cloak and he didn’t see how a Griffindor’s boy could stop him from doing so, even less disarmed. But Potter’s eyes were insistant on him, and Gellert found himself stuck into place, the chestnut somehow becoming hypnotic and alluring, especially with the freckles of gold inside them.  
What.

“Do you even have the two others?” Potter asked him.

“Not yet.” He admitted in a frown.

The silence went longer this time, as if Potter was considering something. He inhaled before saying, “Since we’re telling each other everything,” his voice was carrying inside the room, or perhaps not, perhaps it was only this loud to Gellert, and – (Potter hadn’t reached for his glasses, a part of his brain hissed, why hadn’t he reached for them? Did he even need them -) “I think you’re doing it all wrong.”

“How so?” Gellert questionned almost despite himself, he tilted his head to the side as if searching for what was happening there. He already felt something like this, once. This strange pull, somewhere in a pub in Paris. Albus had told him that the women there had been Vee- 

“You’re doing it in reverse.” Potter explained, animated, his eyes still locked in his, “The cloak in the story was given last. ‘And then Death asked the third and youngest brother’...” he recited, “The wand has to come first, then the stone, and only in the end, the cloak.”

He hummed as he took in Potter’s words.  
Albus and him had never considered this possibility.  
After all, in the story, each Hallow were described to be given in accordance with the brothers’ wishes. But what if, it was actually important? Did they have to follow the story or in the contrary, did they have to not follow it? The brothers never won over Death in the end. But then, they also never put their Hallows together either, they had been too divised, he guessed, for it to work.

“You have to find the other two first. And finish with the cloak.” Potter insisted. 

Gellert looked at him in disbelief, his words distracting him from his other musing. “You realise that if I come back with the elder wand, I will only beat you again.” he waited for the other boy to realize the futility of his request. As nothing came, he pressed, “It will only postpone the inevitable.”

But Potter was holding his eyes in determination, “I will take that odd.” he lowly said. “Look, you’re like me; you know that the story is true and not just some fairytale told to scare off children.” Potter’s voice was sure and firm, “Maybe the order is irrelevant, but are you ready to take the fallout if it isn’t the case? And anyway,” he waved one of his hand to encompass all of him, but Gellert barely caught the movement, too taken by - “You don’t seem to be the type to doubt himself. You’re sure you’ll manage to master the wand and find the stone, so what do you have to risk?”

“You could give the cloak to someone else,” Gellert proposed as he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. His thoughts kept overlapping with one other. He believed that he was forgetting something important, but what was it again? He tried to stay focused, tapping Potter’s wand against his leg as he did so, “Or hide it somewhere, and I would lose trace of it.”

“I don’t know how you could think I would wish to part from it.” he snorted, and somehow that redirected Gellert’s attention on him. “I mean, can you even imagine how useful a cloak of invisibility is?” Potter asked him, his eyes beaming in delight, the gold in them sparkling like little coins.

Gellert, after he failed to picture how Potter could have used it, asked, “No. What do you do with it?”

Potter slowly gaped. “You’re kidding, right?”

“No.”

He looked even more shocked, if that was possible. Gellert didn’t think his question deserved all of this. Potter ought to have been more shocked earlier, he thought. Wait. He disarmed him, right? What was he was doing here, then, talking, instead of -

“I prank people with it, obviously.” Potter blurted, “And you know, I learn stuff too.” he shrugged “You will be surprised at what people say when they think themselves alone.”

Gellert blinked. He tried to imagine the cloak, an object of power and respect, used for somehting so… frivolous. “You’re using a century old magical artefact to prank people.” He repeated flatly.

“Yeah.” Potter beamed at him.

“You’re mad.” He stated, it was almost a crime to let Potter had it. In fact, wasn’t he on his way to take it for himself? 

“It’s fun. You ever did something just for fun?”

Gellert opened his mouth to answer, only to immediately closed it. He wondered if trying his speech out in Paris could be considered ‘fun’. After all, he had a great time, even more so after he Obliviated Krall.  
Potter, seemed to sense his indecision. His mouth twisted, as if it was unsure of the expression it should do. 

“Oh, are you sorting this matter like gentlemen?” said the disappointed voice of Vinda as she came into the dorms and caught them talking it out, “I was hoping to try this.” she showed the frying pan she had between her grip. “Did you see Aberforth by chance? I’ve been searching for him.” she said, “I think the headless ghost lied to me.” She pursed her lips as if greatly offenced by the fact.

Gellert wouldn’t call it a ‘chance’, “He’s on the floor.” He pointed at the sleeping form with his chin.

She went toward the feet of the bed Aberforth was laying near, putting down her pan on the matress as she did so. She then crouched to inspect him. “A Somnolus?” She guessed.

“Yes. And I hold back, even though he was terribly irritating.” As usual, he didn’t add.

“Merlin, are you his accomplice?” Potter asked, eyes wide on Vinda as comprehension fell on him.

“Who said we were only two?” She said in a dangerous smirk.

“Now, Vinda.” he smiled at her, “That is not something we say out loud.”

Potter shook his head, “And I’m the mad one.” 

“Mad? No.” Vinda smiled widely as she fully righted herself, “You’re only the Veela one.” she elegantly got her wand out, and pointed it at Potter, “Silencio.” Potter’s mouth shutted audibly, and Vinda intoned, “Petrificus Totalus.” Potter’s body became static as the light of Vinda’s wand hit him. She seemed unconcerned by it all. “Do I need to shake you off?” She then asked Gellert. She didn’t wait for his reply before she did as she suggered.

He would have been more irritated with her if this hadn’t truly helped him shaking off… whatever he had been under. “What was that?” he blinked his eyes in rapid succession. He felt a nasty headache coming, and he groaned. “What happened?” He prompted her.

“Henry Potter’s a Veela, well,” she amended, “Saying that he has a Veela’s heritage must be more correct, I suppose. He seemed to got you under his glamour just fine, however.”

Gellert clenched his jaw, “I hate Veela.” they were using unfair means. Of course, Gellert already manipulated someone, but it did it without cheating. “How did you know?”

“I met him earlier,” she said, “His golden eyes were a dead giveaway.” she told him, “There’re a lot of them in Beauxbâtons. I learnt to be attentive.” she gazed at the unmoving man in question, “Shall we Obliviate him?”

“Perhaps later. I want to see the cloak for myself, first.” He said. An Hallow, so near of him… It was worth an headache at least.

She nodded sharply. Together they went toward Potter’s trunk, and Gellert opened it carefully. Laid for their eyes was what appeared to be a mess of clothes. Vinda and him exchanged a look, before they went throught Potter’s possession, unceremoniously throwing them out of their way. Then, Gellert’s hand came into contact with a terribly smooth fabric, and he slowly pulled it out.

It seemed so fluid between his hands. Gellert contemplated it, watched how the light descended on it, before it slid over the cloak, and disappeared.  
The cloak of invisibility. Finally.

Gellert put his hand under it and watched it vanish from his sight in fascination. “Impressive.” He breathed in awed.

“Indeed.” Vinda tentatively touched it. “It’s much more well-conserved than I thought it would be. It doesn’t even have a scratch on it.” She remarked in a hushed voice.

“The magic probably preserved it.” He absently hummed, unwilling to put his eyes off of the cloak.

“A proof of how powerful it is.” She hummed in appreciation.

He shot her a small smile, before his eyes went back to the fluid clothe. The ultimate proof that the Hallows were real was between his hands. It was exhilarating.  
He had gone to Paris for this. Vinda and him had got stuck inside a frame for a week, for this. Albus and him had planned the best way to get it for weeks. They went back to England, for this.  
And yet…  
Even as he stood there, with the cloak between his fingers, he couldn’t shake the brief picture he had witnessed earlier; of this illusion who had been playing inside the smooth surface of a mirror. This Vision, almost as clear as his could be, of him holding the elder wand.  
And even if in the end, the picture had wavered, well… it changed very little. It was not the cloak, even as wonderful as it was, that Gellert truly longed for.

He put it back down, with the mess they created. “We should let Potter keep it.” at Vinda wide eyed expression, he added, “I think someone who’s in debt and able to convince almost anyone, could be more useful, than a cloak of invisibility.” at least for now, he thought, “Also, now we know where it is. We’ll come back for it later.” He promised.

“Are you sure?” she asked him, “You’re not under his influence still, are you?”

“No. But I appreciate his determination. Besides, he raised an interesting point.” They would have to study the theory of the order of appariton of the Hallows in the story.

Vinda sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “I have to free him, haven’t I?”

“This would be better. You must want some time alone with Aberforth, after all.” He teased her. It was unfortunate that her tastes were so poor.

“Now, this is something we don’t say out loud.” she rose an elegant eyebrow toward Aberforth’s form as he snored louder, “Shall I tell you about the young man talking Albus’s ears off?” She teased back playfully.

Gellert had almost forgotten about him, “No. I will see to it, after.” he half grumbled between a clenched jaw. “Is it why Albus couldn’t come?” The idea alone annoyed him beyond reason.

“Well, let’s say that,” she licked her lips, “Albus is having a sudden boost of popularity.” she smiled to herself, and huffed in amusement at the face he made. Then, she pointed her wand at Potter, and in a very bored tone, intoned a Finite Incantatem. Potter stumbled as he won back his capacity to move, and his cheeks colored in anger. He opened his mouth, surely to assert his view on this rough handling, but Vinda beat him to it, “Be polite.” she warned, “We dislike rudeness.”

“Really?!” he exclamed, “Because, casting a Silencio and then a Petrificus Totalus on me wasn’t rude, perhaps?”

“You were having my friend under your thumb. I only act out of solidarity.”

Potter made a disbelieving face at her, “Seriously?!”

“We freed you, didn’t we?” Gellert said as he took over, “And we’re even going to let you keep your cloak.”

Potter narrowed his eyes at them in suspicion. “Where’s the catch?”

“We may ask something from you, later.”

“What kind of ‘something’?” He asked, wearily.

“I don’t know yet.” Gellert divulged in a smile. “But it’s better than the alternative, isn’t it? And this what was you wanted: a deal.” he reminded him, “You have one.”

"I've wanted a way out." Potter corrected with feeling. His face went through many complicated emotions. He gazed back and forth between the two of them, “I suppose I have no choice into this?”

“We could still Obliviate you and take the cloak.” Vinda supplied, sounding terribly tempted by the prospect. “Or use the fact that you have a Veela’s heritage for blackmailing you and your family. Or -”

“I get the picture.” he cut her off. “And I will pass, thanks.” He refused archly.

“Disappointing.” Vinda sighed at the loss, without doubts.

Meanwhile, Gellert smiled in satisfaction. He liked when a negociation went right.

There was a beat of silence, “I don’t even know your name.” Potter pointed suddently. “Should I just call you ’the Russian’s cheater’?” he asked sarcastic, “It would be fitting.” He grumbled.

He smiled, a little sharply, “Gellert Grindelwald, at your service.” He offered Potter’s wand, which he won during their duel, back to his owner.

Potter took it from his outstretched hand, cautiously at first, but he put it close to his chest as soon as he fully got it back. “I feel like I’m the one who’s at your service.” He muttered.

“Everything is a matter of perspective, my friend.”

*  
Minerva, after her bout of free falling, had been driven to the infirmary, along the Hufflepuff’s Seeker, on Dippet’s order. Meanwhile everyone else had been ‘invited’ to leave the stadium ‘peacefully’, which meant that most were now wandering inside the castle as they waited for Dippet to reappear and –finally- finish this graduation’s ceremony. So far, the Headmaster was still absent.  
Albus, for his part, had unfortunately been unable to escape the stares. He wouldn’t be able to join Gellert anytime soon, and he hoped he was alright. Or that Henry was. Albus wasn’t entirely sure on who he should be more worried about. There was also Minerva to think of. He had been pacing outside the infirmary’s wings ever since they all disappeared inside, leaving for now Ariana in the care of Daniel Diggory and Felix McLaggen. 

“What a mess.” Galatea sighed as she left the wing, her steps quick and precise. “Every year it’s the same.” she complained to him as soon as she came to a stop next to him. “Last time, you missed it, but it was one of our professor who had fallen aspleep during Dippet’s speech. I won’t say any names, but I bet he didn’t see this happening inside his cristal ball.” She chuckled.

He smiled at her, “I’m sure he would have pay more attention if he had.”

“They’re both going to be alright, you know.” she reassured him, “McGonagall is stubbornly insisting that she is fine, and Scamander is trying to minimize everything so he could walk out.”

“I’m glad.” Albus breathed.

She smiled briefly before she sighed, “I have to admit, I’m not as quick as I used to be.” she appeared embarrassed by the admission. “I should have reacted faster than this.”

Albus shook his head in negative, “Nonsense.” Albus had honestly never thought of her as someone who was slow, “You couldn’t predict it, and,” he paused, “You did act.”

“You’re nice, but I may have become lax.” she hummed, turning pensive, “Teaching had made me less combat-ready, let’s say. And I’m afraid of starting to go in circles, even in my class. I think that I’m in need of some change.” She ended up in a smile as she put her hands on her hips.

“I always liked your classes.” he admitted trustfully, “How would you like to renew them?” He questionned her, curious of what she could possibly add. By generalizing the use of the Boggart for the seventh year perhaps?

“I’m going to be direct, because this where I’m the best,” she started, “I would like to recruit you, as my assistant.” Albus blinked and blinked at that, speechless, “Doing a class as a duo would be more interesting for my students. It would give them another perspective than mine.”

Albus was staring at her, “I don’t know what to say.” He finally voiced after more than a beat of silence.

“Say yes.” she smiled confidently, “Or say you will think about it. I already asked Dippet, and he agreed. Now, I’m only waiting for your approval.” as Albus must have been looking more and more torn, she added, “You have the summer to think about it.” she smoothed, “Give me your answer in August. Merlin knows, I will be waiting for your letter anxiously.” She said with enthusiasm.

Albus nodded absently at her, “Thank you.” He told her, unsure what else to say, and feeling that his words couldn’t carry enough meaning into them.

Yet, she beamed at him, “You’re welcome. Oh, and, you can go see Minerva, you know.” she smiled knowingly, “We won’t be able to keep her on bed rest long anyway.” She winked at him.

“Albus here you are!” Honoria’s voice carried inside the quiet corridor, “I’ve been searching you and your siblings ever since.” she huffed tiredly as she came toward him.

“Galatea, let me present you my Aunt, Honoria Dumbledore,” he montioned at his Aunt, “Honoria, this is Galatea Merrythought, my late Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.” It was easier to say ‘late’ than possible, maybe, future colleague. By Morgana, he would need time to think about it. Was all July going to be enough?

The two women greeted each other, “I’m sorry, I’m not this short usually,” Honoria began, “But I’ve been searching for them and –”

Galatea waved the matter away, “You were worried, this is understandable, even more so given the circumstances. In fact, I have to leave you,” she said, truly apologetic, “I need to reassure everyone now.” she grimaced a bit, apparently not looking forward to this. “I will see you again, soon, I hope.” She said meaningfully at Albus.

“She seemed like a character.” Honoria remarked as she watched her walk away from them, “Please, tell me none of your siblings had managed to end up in the infirmary while I was away.” She implored, her earthy eyes big with apprehension.

“Everyone is fine.” he told her softly, “Ariana is with Felix and Daniel, two friends of Aberforth. They’re making her do a tour as we all wait for the ceremony to resume. And for Aberforth,” he hummed, “Actually, he must be with Vinda,” he guessed that she either went to search for him, or decided to join Gellert, “But I’m not sure.”

“I will take this probability.” she nodded in relief. “If none of you are in the infirmary, why are you here?”

“I was about to visit the players who fell during the match.”

“I will accompany you.” she said in a tone that left no argument, “One of them is one of your friends, isn’t?” She asked him as they began to walk.

“Yes.” the corridors of the infirmary’s wing were as silent as ever, their steps tapping on the floor the only sounds disturbing that peace. Albus imagined it had never been any different than calm and serene; except maybe, during the unfortunate time those walls had to hold Aberforth, after he, more or less, get hit by a bludger. There had been a lot of grumbling then. “The Griffindor’s Seeker, Minerva McGonagall.”

“I heard that you caught her right on time.” at his disbelieving face, she said, “I know, I couldn’t find you, but by Merlin, did I hear of you.” she smiled amused at him, “Gossips still ran faster than anything else here. I see that it hadn’t changed in all those years.” her eyes became less alert, as if she was lost in recollection. There was a silence before she suddently said, “I’m glad you’d never played Quidditch. This game is such a hazard.” 

“You never wanted to play it?” Albus asked her, “My father often talked about his years as a Chaser most fondly.” He bet this was half of the reason Aberforth had wanted the position.

Honoria’s eyes clouded. Another silence passed between them, not uncomfortable per se, but the atmosphere was not as light as earlier either. Albus abruptly realized that the two of them had always carefully evaded the subject of his father. He wondered if he made a faux-pas by breaching it now.

“Percival,” she started, carefully, “Was such an impulsive young man.” she breathed and suddently it was like a dam had broken for she started to smile, and the words that followed had a cadence to them that Albus had never heard from her before, “He was so stubborn. You should have seen him playing Quidditch like his life depended on it. He was inconsolable each times he lost. I kept telling him, that it wasn’t the end of the world if the other team had scored more points than his. Did you know what he told me, most time than not? ‘Imagine if your favorite plant had died and come tell me it’s not important again’. What a jerk.” she shook her head as she laughed softly. Albus smiled, but then she sobered up, “I,” she ducked her head, “I miss him terribly.”

Albus casted his eyes down. From his father, he recalled his loud laugh and how he had tried once – not so subtly - to buy Albus a practice broom after the two of them had gone to Diagon Alley. Albus had watched him describe the joy of flying, almost able to feel the wind brushing his face as his father’s tale continued. His passion for it had been too obvious; it had been in the way his face had become animated, in how his blue eyes had lightened up in delight. Albus hadn’t stood a chance, carried by his story as he had been.  
His father kept promising him that he would teach him, that he would catch him, that he wouldn’t fall. Percival Dumbledore had always been a very protective man. (To the point of violence, but this, had only become clear later.)  
And even though his mother hadn’t been so impressed by this display, she still ended up agreeing, and Albus had ended up with a little broom. It had been almost as tall as him, and his father had painted the wood in red and –  


(“He’s going to be a Griffindor, dear. It’s better if he’s getting use to the colour now.” The rich sound of his father voice had boomed even as he applied more red on the handle of his practice broomstick.  


Albus had been dutifully helping him. He was proud of the fact that his father had put more paint on the floor than him. He also, inexplicably, put a lot of it into Albus’s hair. He pouted, he was going to look like Aberforth at this rate.

“I know what you’re doing.” his mother had crossed her arms over her chest, as she watched her husband and her eldest made a mess of the playroom, “I dearly wish for him to end up in Ravenclaw. We’ll see how much you like red, then.” She told his father evenly.

“Kendra! Don’t say this!”)

“I miss him too.” He admitted softly. A lot of things had been published and written about his father, but none had mentionned that he had been a good flying teacher. Catching Albus everytime his equilibrium slightly wavered.  
(He hadn’t had the heart to fly again after his father’s trial, but he knew that somewhere inside their attic there was a little broom resting, a most loved item now taking the dust.)

She smiled sadly at him, “I’m glad we were able to talk about him. I know it can’t never be easy…” she trailed, “But I think, he deserves to be remembered.”

“Yes, he does.”

They slowed as they were almost in at the infirmary’s door. Honoria fiddled a bit with her hands before she asked him, “You didn’t tell anything to Aberforth, did you?”

Albus looked at her, and it took him some seconds to get what she was talking about. “No, of course not.” he assured her, “It’s your big news.”

Honoria still appeared worked up. “He’s going to think that it’s either too fast or that I’m too old.” She said distressed, as she passed a hand into her styled hair.

“It’s not truly Aberforth’s reaction you’re worried about,” Albus realized as he studied her, “But everyone’s else.” he smiled softly at her, “I don’t think you should care too much about what the public’s opinion could think of it. People will always talk, and Aberforth won’t mind that much once he'll get past his initial shock.”

She hummed, still a bit unconviced, “But do you think it’s too soon?” she worriedly asked him, “I know, it looks like it is, but I’ve never been more sure, you know?” She searched his face as if she could make him understand.

Albus was probably the last person she should ask this. It was not that he didn’t understand her, it was that he identified too much. He was mulling on what to tell or not tell her, when the infirmary’s door opened silently, and Minerva and Ulysse Scamander exited the room, before they carefully closed the door back. Their steps were light and their actions furtive, even as Dippet’s voice could still be heard, on the other side. He smiled.

“I will let the two of you speak,” Honoria said, “I will see if I can find your sister at least.” She sighed audibly. She left them, her steps sure, despite Hogwart’s tricking corridors.

“Albus.” Minerva called him in surprise as she spotted him. Scamander startled as he did the same. Reassured that it was only him and not another professor, he sighed in relief and fled after joyously waving his goodbye at them both. Minerva waved back even as she rolled her eyes at him. “I want to say, this isn’t what it looks like, but,” she trailed. She was still in her Quidditch’s clothes Albus noted, but she looked good, despite the messy state of her hair, and her tired eyes. “They wouldn’t let me up. It was unnerving.” she made a moue of distaste, “We had to go before the matron decides to keep us there for the next week.”

“Understandable.”

They shared a smile, “Anyway, I, actually,” she started awkwardly, “I wanted to see you, I,” she pursed her mouth, but her gaze on him was fierce. “I’ve wanted to thank you.”

Albus ducked his head shyly. “Truly, you don’t need to. Everyone would have done the same.” 

Her expression became somber. She outstretched one of her hand, and presented it, palm up to him. “Here. It’s for you.” She declared, the snitch‘s wings resting peacefully inside her hand.

Albus regarded it, before he raised his eyes to her. “I don’t understand.” He said, somewhat lost.

“This is for you. I may have won without you, but I certainly wouldn’t be in one piece. So this is for you.” she repeated, “Because you moved when no one else did.”

Albus took the fluttering object delicately. He never remarked how delicate its wings were, but then he never had one so still next to him either. “It’s an amazing gift.” he told her honestly. It seemed to be her turn to be embarrassed. She straightened her uniform and looked ready to go, but Albus added, “I hope this unfortunate event won’t change your mind about Quidditch. I would love to watch you play again.”

“I’m a Griffindor, Albus.” she smiled, mirth dancing in her eyes, “You can bet I will play again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little head-up: we’re roughly two chapters away from the end of this whole ‘invisibility cloak adventure’. It should be completed before christmas (yay! :D). After this, I will take a little break, so I can breath a bit and work on their next story (the first plan of this fic was to do one story per Hallow, but my brain put ‘Young Grindeldore’ and ‘Adventure’ together, and went wild).  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. There was a bit of everything concerning on how you guys wanted it to play out, so I hope it wasn’t disappointing.  
> Thank you for reading 💜


	11. Chapter 11

Aberforth woke up to a loud ‘gong’. He started in panic, barely realizing that he was on the floor, as he heard Vinda saying: “It’s truly a wonderful thing.”

He looked upward, and found her appraising the fraying pan she was holding between her hand.

“Did you just bang it against the bed’s frame in order to wake me up?” he asked his voice hoarse and disbelieving, as he tried to sort his bearing. He remembered Gellert-the-cat-menace, then Potter had come, and the last he recalled, Gellert was changing back from his feline form, and Aberforth had done what had been sensible at the time: he covered his eyes to save himself from the trauma of seeing Gellert half naked. Again. But how did he find himself sleeping on the floor already? He scratched his head in thoughts. (Somehow, he was sure that it was Gellert’s fault. Most things were after all.) “Didn’t shaking me would have been more simple?”

“Perhaps.” she aknowledged, “But you have to admit, it had been efficient.” She told him, putting the pan on a bedside so she could help him up. He was still a bit groggy, but together they managed to sit him on the edge of the closest mattress. It was way better than the floor, Aberforth thought.

He pat his throbbing head in hopes it would help him clear his thoughts, “Where are the others? Potter and Gellert?” He asked her.

She shrugged and sat next to him, “They took off. I think Potter mentionned pranking the Hufflepuff at some point.” She seemed to be checking his head for injury with her eyes.

“Really?” he snorted and casted his eyes down, feeling weirdly unsettled under her stare. “I always knew Potter was crazy.” Vinda smiled at this, and he remembered that he was in the Griffindor’s dorm, a place she shouldn’t have access to. “How did you enter?” Better yet, how did Gellert get in earlier?

“The woman inside the painting isn’t immune to flattery.” Vinda divulged, and he grimaced. What was the point of a password if the Fat Lady let everyone in?

“Amazing. My belongings had never feel less secure.” He grumbled moodily.

“I wouldn’t have to follow you if you hadn’t left.” Vinda told him, “Why did you get there?” She asked him, curious.

Aberforth felt his shoulders hunch, and his body became stiff with tension. (He wasn’t blushing.) “I, huh.” he took a deep breath, and glanced at her. She was gazing back, probably wondering why he was so weird. The dorm was silent now, and they were alone, so guessed his opening was now or never. “I have something for you.” He told her. He stood and Vinda started, looking on the verge to order that he sat back. But she let him do in the end, and he went to his trunk. He opened it, and retrieved the package he had bought for her months ago. He didn’t dare looking at her, as he presented it to her.

“It’s for me?” Vinda wondered, surprise coloring her voice. He only extended it more toward her in reply, not trusting his voice right now. He felt her fingers take the package carefully, and he only dared to look at her when he felt the weight being completely lifted from his hands. She appeared almost shocked, her fingertips brushing the simple gift wrap and the green ribbon lightly. “Can I open it?” She asked him without taking her eyes off of it.

“Of course.” He answered lowly, as he began to shift on his feet. It’s yours, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t find the courage to voice it. So much for a Griffindor, he thought, annoyed at himself.

She unwrapped the bow gently. She didn’t tear the paper wrapping the packtage either. She searched for the end of it, and follow the way it had been made to unmade it. It gave and her eyes widened as his gift was revealed.

She stared at it for so long, that Aberforth felt the urge to explain, “It’s a book.” he pointed rather unnecessary. Merlin, she could see it was a book, “It was for your birthday, but…” he trailed. “It’s a detective’s story.” he blurted, “You told me that you liked to guess things so I -” he cut himself off and tried to get back on tracks, “There’re clues hidden inside the text, and to unlock the rest of the story, you have to correctly deduce what happened. I was told, that it get harder as the story progress.” She kept silent as she inspected the deep green and gold cover, making him fidget even more. She probably didn’t like it. Crap, maybe, she was finding it too childish. He shouldn’t have chosen it, in fact, he shouldn’t have taken anything, she was a Rosier, she was used to better stuff than a stupid book –

“Thank you.” she said, putting a stop to his increasing panicked thoughts. “It’s a very thoughtful gift.” She assured him, reaching for the green ribbon that had been circling her gift, before gently securing it inside one of her hidden pocket. 

“You like it?” He asked to be sure.

She nodded, “Yes.” she put the book against her chest before she stood, “But now I’m embarrassed, for I have nothing for you.” She told him in a frown.

“You don’t have to give me anything!” he exclamed, gesturing his hands wildly as he did so. He took a deep breath, and added at a more reasonable volume. “You came today, and it’s nice.” He finished in a awkward half shrug. His eyes were gazing at the rug on the floor as if it was the most fascinating thing he had ever seen. It wasn’t, but he appreciated the safety of it.

Perhaps, had he been looking up instead of down, he would have seen her smile, perhaps he would have even caught her blushing faintly.  
Perhaps.  
But he did feel the feather kiss she dropped on his cheek, and that was already everything. He blushed violently, sure that now his face was as red as his hair, and must look ready to combust. He sure felt like he was about to.

Vinda, on the other hand, appeared perfectly composed, if somewhat smug. “Come on, you wouldn’t want to be late for your graduation.” She prompted him.

“I probably already missed it,” he said, and was glad to note that his voice was barely strangled. If one forgot his face, he could almost pass for normal. He cleared his throat before he continued, “You know because of all this sleeping-on-the-floor thing.” He made a vague motion with his hands to go with it.

She shook her head, “No, I think you woke up just in time. They’re surely only on their way to resume the whole ceremony.” She told him as they both began to walk toward the stairs leading to the Griffindor’s common room.

“Resume?” Aberforth repeated incredulous, “It had been interrupted?”

Vinda blinked at him before she beamed, “Oh, there’s so many things you missed.” she sneaked one of her arm under his, while she put her book under the other one, “I believe that you’re in for a few surprises.”

*  
The rumor that the ceremony was about to start again was spreading rapidly.  
As Albus left the infirmary’s wing and made his way toward the tall doors of the Great Hall, he was glad to note that Honoria had found Ariana back. They were speaking with Daniel and Felix. Diggory seemed eager to share with them all the lastest gossips surrounding the castle, if the way his hands moved dramatically was anything to go by.  
He was wondering if it was even worth it to go to the Griffindor’s dorms, when Felix noticed him, and all but ran to catch up with him. He came to a stop in front of him.

Albus startled in surprise before he, too, came to a halt. He stared at Felix who stared back. After several seconds of silence, he asked, “Is something the matter?”

“I,” Felix blushed. Albus looked around them, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. There was a group of graduates laughing not so far away from them. A family talking. “I was wondering if,” he fidgeted, and Albus thought that this must be an habit of his. (Everytime he saw Felix, the latter was always nervous.) “I would like to –!”

“Albus, here you are.” Gellert smoothly interrupted. He put an arm around his shoulders, pulling against him as he did so. Albus blinked up at him, wondering what Gellert was even doing here, “I’ve been searching for you.”

“It seems to be a theme.” He said slowly, while gazing at Gellert. He hadn't even heard him approach.

His remark was ignored, “Gellert Grindelwald,” he introduced himself. He didn’t offer his hand to Felix. If anything he seemed to make himself stood highter. If he wished to appear more intimidating, it was working, Albus mused, as Felix’s eyes opened wide in apprehension. “Albus’ very dear friend.” He continued casually.

Albus mouthed ‘very dear?’ under his breath, before he sighed. He was starting to see a pattern here. First, Krall who all but get Obliviated for his trouble (it had been unfortunate for Gellert that Albus had read the newspaper that morning). Now, Felix, who was being terrorized for… for what?

“Oh.” Felix blinked before he asked hesitantly, “Like Elphias?”

There was a beat of silence during which Gellert’s face clouded dramatically. Albus didn’t need the Sight to know that this wouldn’t end well. “Excuse us Felix,” he quickly said before the situation could get out of hands. “But, we have to leave you. I will see later.” He hastly said, and didn’t wait for a reply, before he dragged Gellert away by the arm, therefore breaking this ridiculous one- sided glaring contest.

He led him into another corridor. He only slowed down after they passed the Clock Building. He felt Gellert gently bump his shoulder against his. “Did you manage to lose yourself?” Gellert asked him with a raised eyebrow, “I thought it was me who was supposed to play tourist.”

Albus smiled a bit. They entered the last corridor leading to the Forbidden Forest. All its space was open to the outside, letting the warm’s breeze of this summer’s afternoon pass through. Except for them, the place was rather deserted, for there were only two graduates who were speaking quietly near the grass. “Things didn’t go as planned.” He admited softly.

“Tell me about it.” he answered in a huff. “About the cloak, I don’t have it, Potter –”

“Came.” he finished. He put his hands on the wooden windowsill. He liked to see what was beyond. He had been attracted to the view ever since he discovered the place, during his first year at Hogwarts. Sure, it wasn’t as breathtaking as the one you could have on the very top of the Astronomy Tower. But here, there were the green of the fields stretching, and the first trees of the Forbidden Forest beginning, while the clouds were reflecting on the dark water of the lake… Albus had loved and loved Hogwarts for all of this too. “And he can be persuasive, can he not?” Albus asked as he turned to look at Gellert.

“You knew about it.” Gellert said evenly even as he mimicked him, by gazing through another widow.

It wasn’t exactly what Albus had been expecting. The flat tone surprised him, and made him want to defend himself. “I discovered this by chance, during my Prefect years. Henry clearly doesn’t wish for it to go out, and I didn’t want to betray a friend’s confidence.” Albus explained, “Henry wasn’t even supposed to be with you inside the dorms.” he reminded him, “It had nothing with not wanting to tell you. I just –”

“Had scruple.” Gellert finished. He leaned over the windowsill, with his hands folded together, and regarded him, “You didn’t truly want the cloak, did you?”

Albus shrugged, a bit sheepish, “Not really.” he confessed, “When we first planned it, the cloak was, I mean…” He trailed.

“It was for Ariana.” Gellert filled in the blank easely. “But now, she doesn’t need it anymore.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Albus smiled. Love magic was truly a wonder, he thought as he regarded Gellert fondly.

Gellert sighed as he broke eyes contact, “At least, we know where to find it.”

“Yes, we do.” he acquiesced. “You’re not mad, are you?” Albus couldn’t help but ask. He bit his lower lip in worry.

“No.” Gellert replied in a breath, as he pushed himself away from the windowsill. Albus did the same, if only to catch his eyes again. “But no more secrets Albus, I’m serious.” he took some steps toward him before he closed his arms around him. Albus returned Gellert’s embrace hesitantly. “And we can’t afford to have scruple nor remorse next time, mein Schatz.” he told him in a whisper, “We absolutely need the elder wand for our revolution. For the Greater Good.”

Albus’s eyes dropped to the ground, “Alright.” he closed his eyes, and he breathed him in. He wondered if Gellert realized the lack of secrets he had for him in general. You omitted an occurrence once, and everyone thought you were a liar, he mused. “Then, I have to tell you another thing,” he confessed into the crook of Gellert’s neck, “Galatea, my Defence professor, offered me to be her assistant next year.” even saying it sounded unbelievable, “I haven’t answered her yet, of course.”

“But you want to tell her yes, I am right?” Gellert questionned after he released him enough so he could study his face.

“Perhaps.” Albus smiled. When Gellert stayed silent, he added, “There’s no rush. I don’t have to decide anything today. But it’s a very generous offer.”

“I see.” Gellert said pensive.

He looked so thoughtful that Albus felt the need to change subject. “Did you like what you saw of Hogwarts so far?”

Gellert hummed in affirmative. “You know, there were many strange things in the room you made me pass through,” he told him, “Like this huge mirror who showed illusions.” he shook his head, even as he kept his arms around him, “I can’t believe your school let these kind of magical objects without supervision.” He finished his comment with a tsk.

Albus blinked his eyes, “The Mirror of the Erised? You…” he took a breath, “What illusion did it show you?” He asked as nonchalantly as he could. Gellert didn’t seem to know the true purpose of the Mirror. Illusions, he had said, not desires. And Albus, he… well he wondered what Gellert’s deepest desire could be.

“Nothing I didn’t already know.” He cryptically answered.

Albus wanted to press the matter. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask for more. But he relented. He supposed that Gellert had the right to keep some secrets close to his chest too. This didn’t change anything. (When Gellert would have to chose, between him and the Deathly Hallows, what would he do? Who would he chose? Albus already knew the answer even if he didn’t want it. And then -)  
He hugged Gellert tighter against him.

“Are you trying to crush me?” Gellert asked him, amused.

Albus let go of him at once, “No.” he could feel his cheeks heat in embarrassment, and he lowered his head down. “Sorry.”

Gellert didn’t seem to have minded so much at least, which was a relief, “It’s nothing.” he assured, giving him a small smile. He rose his chin up with one of his thumb. “But, we’ll have to talk about this, one of these days.” He said earnest and apologic.

“Talking about what?”

“Not today.” 

The sound of the big Clock being activated broke their conversation. It ‘ding’ and ‘dong’ loudly. “I believe they’re ready to continue.” he hummed, the sounds were a sure way to attract everyone’s attention. “Are you about to leave through the Vanishing Cabinet again?” He wondered.

“Do you really want to go to your brother’s graduation?” Gellert countered.

Albus feeling playful, tilted his head to the side, “What is my other option?”

Gellert’s smile widened.

*  
“This wasn’t what I had in mind.” Albus admitted as they came inside the Divination’s room, perched at the top of one of the castle’s tower. The professor had let the classroom’s door opened, which meant they didn’t even have to use a spell to enter. Gellert seemed to have taken this for a sign that justified their actions, and was now looking at each items present inside with a most critical expression.

“It’s Potter who had given me this idea.”

“Let me guess,” Albus took the key of the room into his hand, and wondered if their professor was more out of it than he had first thought, “It involved pranking someone.”

“Yes.” he confirmed, “Which reminded me of this joke of a class.” he showed him a deck of tarot cards he just found, “What is this, the good fortune?”

“Basically.”

“I’m going to take care of this first, then.” He put all cards inside his open palm, before he tapped on them with his wand by using his free hand. He incantated a Levioso, making the cards levitated in front of him. Gellert concentrated on them then, and his magic buzzed around him as twenty-one cards turned onto themselves, more and more quickly, before they settled once again in his hand.

“What did you do?” He asked curious and interested.

“I changed their illustrations by using Transfiguration.” he smirked as he put each one of them flat on the professor’s desk, “Now,” he took his wand out and pointed it at them, “I’m going to put a spell on some of them which should activate only when they are used.”

Albus came closer so he could look down at the cards, “What kind of spell?”

Gellert took one card out, with moving green chicken drawn at the center, “This one, I think I will put a Raining Charm on it. So when it is picked, it will pour into the room.” He said with unconcealed glee.

Albus smiled, “This is rather imaginative.” then, he remembered the snitch Minerva gave him, and of its fragil wings, “But, I think I can do better.” He beamed. Gellert stopped his spelling to gaze at him. Albus put the key on the desk along the rest and after a wild twirl of his wand, his Charm hit its target. The old looking key grew golden wings, they flapped briefly against the desk, as if awaking. It made an odd metallic sound. After that, he used a Doubling Charm on it, several times, and he watched in delight as the now multiple keys started to fly off.  
They tentatively flew around before they regrouped themselves near the ceiling. One of them even chirped, soon joined by another.

“Of course, you would make them sing.” Gellert said with his head upward as he gazed at them. His smile suddently grew, “Liebling.”

“What?”

“You should change the decoration of the room, don’t you think?” he proposed, his tone cajoling, “The whole place is so sad.” He emphasized.

Albus looked around. It was true that the wood table and the desk were austere. There was a definite lack of colour that gave off a rather gloomy vibe. And he knew from experience, that the chairs weren’t gentle on one’s back (especially when you fell aspleep on them). He nodded determined, as he drew his wand, “You’re right. I will do it.”

*  
This was how, half an hour later, the Divination’s classroom found its floor covered in various rugs; Albus had seen some truly beautiful works when he had been in Egypt and had tried to recreate them from memory. He also added a velvet tablecloth on the round table, turned those awful chairs into little pouf and only let the professor’s desk as it was. After all, Albus had to endure hours of his never ending class.

Meanwhile Gellert seemed to be satisfied with his work on the deck of tarot. He put them back in place. Then, he put his arms on his hips as he looked down at the cristal ball displayed on one of the shelf. He seemed to considerate something.

Albus’ eyes twinkled, “I’ve heard that you use it to see what the future holds.” he explained most seriously. Gellert rolled his eyes. He smiled, “Did you ever use one?”

“Yes, but it’s been a long time.” he admitted, “It’s mostly an effect Seers use to impress those who don’t possess a Vision. In short, this is just for show. At least, this is how my grandmother uses it.” he explained, “She showed me how. You wanna see if I still know how to play a con?” He proposed, mischievous, as he took the ball and sitted on one of Albus’s fluffy pouf.

“Sure.” He agreed, amused. He came to sit in front of Gellert, the little round table, with its crimson tablecloth between them.

Gellert put the ball on the center of it, before he seemed to recall something, “Wait, I don’t look the part,” he Conjured a bright blue cloak that he hastly tied around his neck so it wouldn’t fall, and a big witch hat that covered half of his face, “There, I think I look mad enough.”

Albus chuckled, “Wait,” He searched inside his pocket and got his Spectrespecs out. He gave them to Gellert who put them on his eyes without second thoughts.

“Now, do I look demented?”

Albus laughed at the picture he was making, and Gellert seemed to be satisfied with this answer. He opened his arms wide, the cloak he was wearing, giving a dramatic’s flair to his acting, “Now, Albus, with too many names, Dumbledore,” his voice lowly intoned, “Tell me, why did you come here today?”

“I was dragged there,” he said, pretending to be upset by the fact, “The door was open, but I’m afraid to have lost my way.” He patted his cheeks as if he was trying to compose himself.

“Everyone who shows before me are where they are supposed to be.” he recited it like a riddle, “I will tell you all about your professional future,” he told him as he nodded to himself, the hat falling more and more into his eyes. Albus bet that only the Spectrespecs prevented it from obscuring his view completely. The blue and pink glasses were turning and turning. “Since I know from a very sure source that your romantic’s one is already secured.”

Albus let out a shocked gasp, “How can you know?” he feigned astonishment, “Did you see this inside your cristal ball?”

Gellert snorted, before he went back into his character, “Oh, spirits of the water, fire, earth, and wind,” he called, “Disclose to me the future of this man.” his hands and arms were doing wide movements. The cristal ball began to levitate, circled by his arms like a strange hug. It even started to let out a blue hue, and Albus happily clapped at the trick. “I See…” he trailed, before he gazed down at the ball. There was a few second of silence before he said, “Trees. With snow.”

“Are you foreseeing winter?” He teased him.

“The leaves are frozen out before they can touch the ground.” Gellert continued as if he hadn’t talked, his voice sounding far away.

“So a cold winter?” He prompted. He waited for him to either drop the act or continue it, but during what felt like minutes, nothing happened. Gellert stayed still, his position remained unchanged, and Albus’ smile began to dim. Not being able to see Gellert’s eyes was unnerving, he discovered. Also, despite the bright sun outside, he was feeling far from warm. 

“Are you afraid?” He abruptly asked in a tone so hollow that it chilled him. Which was ridiculous.

Still, he couldn’t help but leaned back, away from the table, “What?”

But Gellert shook his head once before he took his glasses off, “I totally got you.” He told him in huge smile, as he dropped the cristal ball back into the table.

Albus let out a huff, before he reached over the table to pinch him, “You’re terrible.” He accused him even as he smiled in relief.

“I’m an amazing actor, you mean.” He preened as he got rid of his hat.

“Amazing and terrible, then.” Albus conceded. He grabbed the simple bow Gellert had made with his Conjured cloak, to make him lean forward. Albus crossed the rest of the distance to kiss him.

It made him forget that for a wild minute, he almost believed in Divination.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gellert: *asks Albus to decorate the place, knowing that no one in their right mind would like it*  
> The Divination’s professor when he sees the state of his classroom: *heart eyes*  
> Albus: 😏  
> Gellert: …


	12. Chapter 12

Gellert got out of the Vanishing Cabinet for the second time today.

He noted, pleased, that the owner of this gateway at Borgin and Burkes, was as pointedly looking away from it as he had before. A lot of thing could be said about Knockturn Alley, but here everyone respected a certain discretion, in exchange for the right price of course. He slipped a galleon on the counter, just like he had done on his first trip, before silently taking the door.  
He quickly walked into the streets, the district wasn’t a place he wished to linger into. There were people trying their hands at charity or at thieving, it depended on which was the most interesting for them at the time of the day; deals were made in hushed whispers into every dark corners, and the few shops present here were mostly selling Dark artefacts or potions bordering on illegal. He saw a bottle of Love potion, proudly displayed behind one of the shop’s window, that he was sure had been forbidden a few years ago. He grimaced as he passed in front of it, to him there were only a few things worse than this. Gellert loathed the very idea of being controlled, let it be his body, or his feelings.

He reached Diagon Alley, and made his way to the Apparition point; his Tante would be mad if he arrived late to the surprise party she had organized for Aberforth’s graduation.

Of course he could have gone to Godric’s Hollow with Albus, but it would have meant another explanation to Honoria, and to bear Aberforth. Morever, he needed a little time alone to think about what happened in the Divination’s classroom of Hogwarts.

The incantation he had said was supposed to be fake for Faust’s sake. It wasn’t meant to make him See anything.

Yet, against all odds, it had worked.

It was as if he had been there, with his feet deep into the thick snow instead of being inside the classroom, with his too big hat falling on his nose. He had been able to see the puff of air in front of him, coming at each respiration, making the whole Vision more vivid.  
He had looked up then, from his boots disappearing into the white, to the tall trees with their pale leaves. A heavy breath from the wind and one of them had fallen, twirling onto itself, like a ballerina. It had been attacked by the bite of the frost right away, and when it had finally reached the ground next to him, it had been already frozen.  
Sounds of voices reached him, and Gellert had somehow lowered his head to the ground again. There were footsteps drawn, creating a path into the immaculate snow. He had blindly followed it, closing on the voices as he did so and –

He shook his head, coming back to the animated streets of Diagon Alley.  
At least, Albus hadn’t believed it to be true. Gellert guessed that Albus’s old prejudices against Divination had worked in his favor. Gellert wasn’t sure what he had said exactly while he had been under. It was difficult to recall his own words, while it was easy to remember what he had Seen.

Gellert spotted the Apparition point, and fastened his pace.

Albus had no reasons to go there anyway, he rationalized. After all, he was half ready to take the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts’ assistant. In fact, he thought as he walked, it would be an amazing idea for him to take this position. Let Albus play the assistant for a year, his mind whispered, while he was in Hogwarts, he couldn’t be anywhere else. He would be as safe and as far away from there than he could. It was almost too perfect, he mused.  


He Apparated, thinking that convincing Albus to take the position wouldn’t be a hardship.

*  
They finally reached Godric’s Hollow, after another (long) speech from Dippet and several interminable minutes of goodbyes. Diggory had been too emotional, Potter had been suspiciously pensive, and McLaggen had almost teared up when, at first, they hadn’t found Albus. His brother had reappeared later, right before they left. Aberforth had narrowed his eyes at him, but it hadn’t given him any clues on where he had been. 

Typical.

It was Madam Bagshot who greeted their group when they finally arrived to the Dumbledore’s house.  
She seemed to have been waiting for their return, and had prepared them a true fest. She had transformed their little kitchen table into a huge one and had installed it into their garden. She clapped happily when she saw them, and this was when Aberforth noticed the flying teapot following her around, and Fawkes already perched on one of the chairs surrounding the heavily decorated table. She had Conjured a red and gold tablecloth, along delicate glasseware. She had cut some fresh flowers that she had put into bouquets here and there. Aberforth blinked at it all, wondering if all of this was truly for him.

“Bathilda, you shouldn’t have!” Honoria astonished as she came to her and together, they began to chatter enthusiastically.

His brother’s fiery bird went to its master as soon as it noticed him, and began to chirp an impromptu melody. Aberforth rolled his eyes at its antics, only to see a little house-elf carrying a huge tray of food. She was a small thing, wearing a little golden dress and curiously enough a red bow, tied around her head. He made a face at it, there was only one person capable of such bad taste.

“Where does this elf come from?” He demanded turning his head toward Albus.

“Oh, it’s Greety.” Albus simply answered him. He searched through his pockets before he got out a box of chocolate frog. He gave some to Fawkes, who greedily devoured them, much to Aberforth’s dismay. As his face stayed blank, Albus frowned at him. “I told you about her in my letters.”

“You did?” He scratched his chin in thoughts. It was possible. After all, Aberforth mostly read Albus’s letters in the hope of seeing written there: ‘I dumped Gellert.’ Since it was never the case (sadly), he had the tendency to forget about them entirely.  
Denial was a powerful deity.

“Her pastries are really good.” Vinda informed him neutrally.

“Okay?” He said hesitantly.

“She’s my house-elf.” Gellert said, casually drinking something in a cup, and already sitted confortably inside one of the chair, with one of his leg crossed over the other. He seemed to have appeared from nowhere. Aberforth turned his head back and forth, searching from where he could have come from, in order to block his entry next time. “Close your mouth, it makes you look even more dense.” He snorted, before going back to his drinking.

“So nice to see you too.” He drawled as he glared at him. Why couldn’t Albus date someone like McLaggen? Nice, and inoffensive? Probably because Albus would manipulate them into doing whatever he wanted, he thought in a hum.

“Is this coffee?” Vinda perked up in interest.

“Yes.” Gellert confirmed in a smile.

She took place next to him on the table, and he even served her. She comfortably drank with him. It was annoying, somehow. Gellert was an arse. Why did everyone seem to favor him? Aberforth spotted a fork and his fingers itched to close around it. One of them brushed it in yearning, but Albus seemed to have guessed his less than favorable intention (Legilimency, Aberforth sighed) and he Accio'ed them to him. Fawkes, installed on his brother’s shoulder, was now narrowing his creepy eyes at him. 

Albus sat then, slowly and deliberately on Gellert’s left side. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, when he said, “Please, take a sit.”

It was hardly an invitation.

Aberfoth sighed longingly at the forks neatly put near his brother and out of his reach on the tablecloth. He sat down, facing Vinda, with Ariana next to him, as she congratulated him some more. His sister seemed to be vibrating with a sort of nervous energy. Her hands were tugging at the hem of her dress, a pale peach fabric with white dots, even more than she usually did. Her gloved fingers travelled to her knees to the chamomile brooch she put at her collar in rapide succession; and he made a moue. Did she have to wear Gellert’s gift?

Vinda slipped a knife toward him, “It’s better for stabbing someone.” She stated lowly.

He stared at her for a beat, wondering how she could even know, before deciding that ignorance was bliss.

“Hum, I,” Ariana started, catching his attention. She dropped her eyes to her lap, and laced her fingers together. The next second, she looked past him, clearly seeking confirmation, and he momentary followed her line of sight, and barely caught her looking at Albus before she said, “I want to go to Beauxbâtons next year. In September, I mean.” she took breath and said more firmly this time, “I’m going to Beauxbâtons in September.”

“What.” Aberforth said, blinking at her, “You can’t -”

“Amazing.” Vinda cut him off, and he turned his head at her. “I can’t wait to have you there with me. We’ll have fun, you will see.” She promised in a smile as she took another sip of her coffee.

“But, she –”

“Beauxbâtons is far less restrictive than Hogwarts.” Albus explained to him, “She can.” He told him in a sweet smile.

“I have a feeling you made sure she would.” He said between a clenched jaw.

“It was her choice in the end.” His brother assured him.

“And of course, you hadn’t influenced her in any ways.” Aberforth’s expression probably was as disbelieving as his words. He knew Albus after all.

“I am here.” Ariana interceded, “This is exactly why I want to go.” she told him, “I have a voice too, and I want to be heard.” she said firmly. “This is my descision Abe. I really want to go.” she pleaded him with her big baby blue and Aberforth felt the worst of his anger vanish, “Can you be happy for me?”

“Of course, I’m happy for you.” He assured her, “It’s just,” he paused, “I can’t stop being worried. You’re my little sister, and I just can’t turn it off.” He tried to explained to her.

“Oh Abe.” she smiled, and her eyes became a bit watery. Shit, why was she crying? “I love you too.” She whispered before she hugged him. Being seated didn’t stop her as she tried to squeeze the life out of him.

It was nice.

“You’re so cute.” Vinda commented.

Aberforth, who had completely forgotten about their audience, blushed. “I’m -! I’m not!” He spluttered.

“Your tastes are so mess up.” Gellert said to Vinda.

“I know.” she sighed dramatically. “He’s going to be Auror too. It’s becoming embarrassing.” She told him.

“Auror?” Gellert lifted one eyebrow, before boring his eyes into him. “You’re not going to last a month.”

He disloged himself from Ariana to scold at Gellert.

“Is this a prediction?” Vinda asked him, hopeful.

“No, intuition.” He smirked, the arse.

“I can so do it.” he said firmly. “In fact, who here, didn’t even finish his schooling?”

Albus sighed, exasperated at them, but Gellert’s face became somber, “I’m way more powerful and intelligent than you.” He stated.

“Yet, incapable of being graduated.” He mocked.

Gellert’s eyes flashed, “I can beat you to anything, whenever I want.”

“Can you?” Aberforth challenged. 

“Aberforth,” Albus said, a reprimand in itself, “That’s enough.”

“No, it’s alright.” Gellert’s clenched hands said otherwise, but suddently his face light up and he smirked. Aberforth distrusted it at once. “Let’s do a little competition.” he offered, “You think you’re better than me? Well, let’s test this theory.”

Albus frowned, “Gellert –”

“I will even choose an impartial judge.” Gellert cut Albus easely. He leaned over the table and toward him. Aberforth automatically leaned backward, “Let’s both try for the Aurors. The first to fail at one of their entry tests, lose.”

“Fine.” he hotly agreed, anything to wipe the smirk off Gellert’s pretentious face. “You’re on!”

A pause.

“You didn’t have to challenge my brother if all you wanted was to be Auror.” Albus noted in a tired sigh.

“You’re doing something together, that’s… nice.” Ariana settled for, her voice unsure.

“I guess, you could steal some intel concerning the Bristish Ministry while you’re in there.” Vinda conceded before taking another sip of her coffee.

Aberforth made a face at her, while Gellert nodded as if it was obvious.

“By the way,” Abe started before he could dwell on the consequences of this bet for his country. How much damage could Gellert possibly do when put inside a place of power? Abe could already envisage sensitives informations being leaked into the press and politicals scandals, “I already know about our Aunt and Vinda’s father.” He said, looking pointedly at all of them. If it wasn’t for Vinda, Abe wouldn’t know anything of importance.

“You do?” Honoria wondered incredulous. Aberforth startled in his seat, he hadn’t heard her came near. He gazed up at her in surprise.

Their Aunt exhanged a look with Albus, who in answer shook his head in negative. What was with everyone doing this lately? He mused, suspicious. And how much informations could Albus hide?  
He felt a nasty headache coming. He rubbed his temple slowly, feeling vaguely resigned.

“He doesn’t look like he does.” Bathilda commented as she sat. She smiled at him, and if he had never seen the similarities between her nephew and her before, he certainly spotted them now.

“What should I know?” He wondered almost idly, dreading the answer. His eyes slided to Gellert, far too content to Aberforth’s liking.

“You see,” Honoria started. She paused for a while as if searching for her words before she sat too, falsely casual. She smoothed her dress, slowly, as if to give her more time to think. “When two people truly like each other, they decide to – I mean sometimes they decide to, some never, and it’s alright too. But you see –”

“She’s getting married.” Vinda bluntly announced.

“Yes, this.” Honoria nodded, grateful at being interrupted it seemed.

“What?!” He exclamed.

“Married.” Gellert repeated evenly, as if bored. “Are you deaf too?”

He ignored this. “With who?” He asked as his confusion reached a new level.

“With Armand of course.” Honoria told him matter-of-fact. At his incredulous look she explained, “Armand Rosier.” she precised, “Vinda’s father.” after a beat of silence she added, “I thought you already knew?” Her eyes travelled to the others occupant of the table.

He gaped. Closed his mouth. Looked at Vinda for confirmation. She lifted one of her shoulder. “My father is a romantic.” Was all she said on the subject.

“But…” he trailed, completely lost, “Why? When? How?”

“The why is easy I think,” Albus smiled amused, as he petted Fawkes, “They love each other.”

“The when is yet to be decided.” Gellert offered off-handy.

“We want a long engagement. And we’re still torn between an autumn or winter wedding.” Honoria supplied as she positively beamed.

“Both has their charms.” Bathilda hummed in approbation.

“For the how, do you want to know how my father proposed?” Vinda asked him.

“You don’t want to know how Mister Rosier proposed, believe me.” Ariana told him as she wrinkled her nose. “Too sappy.” She muttered.

“Maybe he wants to be traumatised.” Gellert grinned as if the thought alone was tasty.

Several minutes of silence followed. Somewhere in their house, the clocks ticked and ticked.

“When did all of this happened?!” he finally exploded, his hands gesturing wildly to encompass them all, “And what’s next?” he wondered, horrified at all the possibilities, “Are you going to tell me you’re married too?” he asked Albus, but it was Gellert he was looking at. His smile became too wide to be safe, so he moved on, fast, “What about your parrot?” he gripped into this mundane subject with all his might. Said bird ruffled its feathers, offenced it seemed. “Is it a cow in reality?” His laugh sounded desperate even to his ear. By Morgana, couldn’t one hope for normality anymore?

“Of course not.” Albus said, and holy wood, to which one of his question was he answering? He wondered a bit hysterically. Surely, he wasn’t married with Gellert. Of course, he wasn’t. Denial, denial, he desperately called to the higher force. “Fawkes is a phoenix.” 

Aberfoth made a sound that he was sure, wasn’t human. His brother didn’t say no to the other question. But it was impossible. He couldn’t end up related to Gellert. Surely, no universe would allow this to happen.  
Right?  
Right.

“You mean, your weird bird is a phoenix?” He asked for confirmation instead.

“Yes.” His brother cheerfully replied.

“Is this why you’re giving it chocolate frog?”

Albus tilted his head to the side. “I don’t see the relevance.”

“Because it’s immortal – never mind.” He dropped the matter as Albus regarded him, with an uncomprehending look.

“Let’s toast to your graduation Aberforth,” Bathilda said, quickly changing subject, “And to you both, Honoria and Ariana. To new beginnings!”

“To new beginnings!” They cheered along her before toasting.

“Yeah, I guess this can’t hardly get worse.” He muttered before finishing his drink in one go. 

His Aunt was getting married to a Rosier. He might or might not be related, through marriage, (he shuddered) to Gellert (except this couldn’t be. Denial, denial, denia-). His little sister was going to study in France. A parrot suddently turned into a phoenix. And the most important, he was going to kick Gellert’s ass out of the Auror’s program and win, damnit.  
But, honestly.  
When did his careful and uneventful life have become so chaotic?  
He totally blamed Gellert Grindelwald for stomping all over it.

“Oh, do you always snore?” Vinda asked, sounding uninteresed, “I heard that it’s a terrible habit.”

Aberforth sighed, “I do not snore.” He denied half heartly.

She smiled, sly and amused, though by what he couldn’t guess. The light was illuminating her eyes, and he swore that they sparkled then, like two gems.  
He amended only one thing: his life might be choatic now, but it had Vinda into it.

He smiled back at her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of our invisibility cloak story. I wish you all a merry Christmas🌲 along a happy new year 😄  
> Don't hesitate to tell me what you thought of this one or to drop ideas/wishes for the next one.
> 
> See you soon ^^


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I hope the new year is treating you well ^^  
> So, I’m not yet ready to post the next story, but my ‘bridge’ of sort is finished, and it makes for a long chapter? Consider this an apology for the wait ;) (also, the alternative title of this one is: ‘Gellert is the Auror’s recruit from Hell’. You have been warned lol.)

1900, September, Monday, 3rd, The British Ministry of Magic

“Why are you here?” Potter had come over as soon as he had seen him, “Someone else to rob?” he inquired, his voice drawling with unconcealed sarcasm. “And here I was thinking that what we had was special.”

“Don’t worry, you have a very special place in my mind.” Gellert replied agreeably. He spotted Aberforth with the others Auror’s recruits, and he couldn’t resist throwing a smirk at him. The latter made a face in return. “I’m actually hesitating.” he admitted as he folded his hands on his back. Potter was looking back at him cautiously. “Shall I go into the Department of Mysteries first and see what they hide there, or just rummage through the Head Auror’s desk?” He wondered evenly.

Potter stared at him for a beat. His eyes blinked slowly behind his huge glasses. Gellert patiented. If what he had caught from him so far, and if the stories Albus’s told him were true, then he wouldn’t have to wait long for a reply. Sure enough, he answered, “The Department of Mysteries.” he said, “This is where they keep all the interesting stuff.”

Gellert hummed, even as he fought down a very satisfied smile. “And are you? Interested?”

Potter pursed his lips as if this could contain the clear delight his face was showing, “If I say yes,” he started carefully, “Would you consider my debt paid?”

“It depends.” he told him, “Would you rather do multiple little things for me or only one big?” Gellert countered, genuily interrogative.

“If breaking into the Department of Mysteries is little for you, I don’t think I want to know what’s big.” Potter replied. “I realize, by the way, that you’re only manipulating me because you want to use my invisibility cloak.” he frowned as if annoyed, “I resent the hell out of that.”

Gellert shrugged, unconcerned. “I can live with this.”

*  
“So, you’re here today because you think you’re cut to be Auror. Well,” the man paused dramatically. He was small, and in his forties with the beginning of a stubble on his jaw. He was pacing back and forth in front of them, like a general inspecting his troops. If this was supposed to be intimidating, it wasn’t working. Gellert didn’t even remember his name, this was how unimpressed he was. “Let’s say that not all of you will succeed. I’m Jonah Sobbosh,” ah, yes that was it. “And I’m going to be your instructor. I have to warn you; I’m not nice and if you want to be coddled, go back to your mother. Are we clear?” He asked them, voice hard.

Since this man had clearly never met his mother (she would destroy him with only a few cutting words, he was sure), Gellert didn’t dignify this with an answer. Instead he grinned at Aberforth who rolled his eyes in aggravation at him.  
The game was on.

*  
“Alright first: casting. We’ll evaluate how fast you cast and how creative you are with your spells. Harming spells are off-limit.” He warned them.

Too bad, Gellert thought. Still there were a variety of curses he could think of for Aberforth. Gods know, he had waited a year for this opportunity to arise.

*  
“Dark curses are off-limit too!” Sobbosh shouted to the practice room at large, “Merlin, is there still someone unharmed?” He asked in dismay as only pained groans answered him.

“I’m fine.” Gellert said, while he played with his wand between his fingers. Sobbosh casted a nervous look at it.

“Why,” their instructor started. He gluped before he continued, “Why did you change him into a goat?” He asked, his finger pointing at the angry animal at his feet.

“You said there were points for creativity.” Gellert cooly reminded him. He eyed the grotesque orange haired goat trying to chew his boots with an indulgent smile. Finally, Aberforth had come back into his natural state. A whole world made of hay and goat-friends was opening up for him. He should thank him. For one, he looked better like this.

“Fine too!” Potter - he truly knew how to evade a spell - happily raised his hand. Gellert bet he used his cloak at some point. His expression was manic.

“I know you’re fine.” Sobbosh snapped at him, “You’re the one who finished most of them with your slipping floor spell.”

“This was good, yes?” Potter asked him, eagerly.

“What’s next?” Gellert asked him, bored already.

Sobbosh stared at the two of them like they were crazy.

*  
“Alright, now that you’re all, huh, back to yourself, we’ll try an interrogation.” Sobbosh said, already sounding far more hesitant than this morning. “So I need volunteers for our first suspect –”

“I’ll do it.” Aberforth firmly asserted. Gellert thought it was a pity that their instructor had not let nature ran its course. If he hadn’t finished his spell, Aberforth would probably have been very far away by then, and Gellert could have told Albus, without an ounce of lies, than his brother was gone and happy somewhere near a farm.

“Me too.” Gellert ignored the nasty glare Aberforth shot him. He mused that he could still change him back into a goat later.

He heard a collective ‘huh’ from the others recruits who, smartly, chose not to come with them. No one wanted to be stuck between him – he had personally cursed most of them this morning – and Aberforth, who everyone had already discovered to be a moody human being. 

“I’m in!” Potter cheerfully decided to join them. Gellert lifted an eyebrow at him. Perhaps Potter was suicidal. He was lucky the elder wand was his first love and not the cloak.

Sobbosh stared at them three for a second before resuming, “So, this man,” he pointed to the fifty years old man anxiously rubbing his hands together inside the Auror’s interrogation room. “Is suspected to have participated to a traffic of Sleeping Draught. He was arrested in Knockturn Alley, this morning.” he explained, “We need him to tell us who his accomplices are. So far, he’s not talking.” he told them, “You all have fifteen minutes to change that. I will be with you, inside the room, in case it goes nasty. But I will let you conduct the interview. We’ll debrief after. And it starts,” he checked his watch, “Now.” He made ushering movement at the three of them.

“He doesn’t look like he want to talk.” Potter noted as he looked at their suspect through the glass.

Sobbosh ignored him and instead went into the room, closely followed by the rest of them.

“What does this mean?” their suspect asked as his eyes took on the four men coming inside, “Am I a group project now?” He laughed nervously.

“Looks like.” Gellert told him as he sat. At his surprised look, he leaned casually into his chair and fixed him, unblincking. The man quickly evaded his stare. He smirked.

Aberforth let out a long sigh as he sat too. “Just talk, and we’ll be out of your hair.”

The man shook his head in negative, stubborn on his silent vow. He wasn’t going to confess anything like this, Gellert realized. Since the polite way seemed to have failed, it was time to try a more direct one.

“We could use the Cruciatus curse on him.” Gellert proposed midly. He watched the effect it had on him raptly. Sure enough, the suspect startled, and his eyes widened in fear. He clearly hadn’t been expecting this. Good, he thought.

Sobbosh widly slashed the air with his hands. “We do not use Unforgivables!” He exclamed.

He almost sighed. He had never said he would truly cast it, he had only suggested it. Gellert was counting on the shock’s effect his words had on their suspect, believing that the threat of it would be more than enough to turn him talkative. He turned to look at their instructor. “I’m not asking for your forgiveness.” He declared, because, in the end, he certainly wasn’t.

“Wild.” Potter breathed near him. He had chosen to stay standing, half leaning against the wall between the exit and the man.

Aberforth leant on the table, toward their suspect. “Did you hear this? I have to put up with this kind of dramatic nonsense all the damn time. You, on the other hand, can escape it by talking.” at his prolonged silence, he hit the table with one his hand. Hard. The table shook. “Talk!”

“I think he’s mute with fear now.” Potter remarked.

“Let do those who knows.” Gellert told Aberforth, his tongue clicking in annoyance, “You’re destroying my progress.”

“Your progress?” Aberforth repeated, aghast, “Are you kidding me?”

“I do not have the will to entertain you.” He evenly replied as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Why did it have to be you?” Aberforth suddently complained, “Why couldn’t it be McLaggen?” He lamented. He looked at their suspect du jour, as if taking him for witness.

Gellert frowned in displeasure, “Him, again.”

“Yes, him. He’s nice and has such a huge crush on –” he flattered as he seemed to remember their audience, “My sister.” He hastly finished.

Gellert felt his whole mood darkened. “Did he now?”

“Wait, is this a family thing?” Sobbosh asked them from behind, “Personal matters have no place here, gentlemen.”

“This explain so much.” Potter said as his eyes travelled between the two.

“Oooh, are you jealous again?” Aberforth challenged him.

“Hardly.” he hastly denied, “I have nothing to fear from this man.”

“Please.” Aberforth insisted, “You’re so possessive. Pretty sure it’s not healthy.”

“I –” the man started, his lower lip wobbling, “I will admit all my crimes, just, please, let me ou-.” The suspect pleaded.

“Hush,” Potter cut him off, “I’m listening.” He shushed him with a distrait movement of his hand.

“You know,” Gellert said, trying to rein his temper, “Ariana has taken the habit to write to me regulary.” he nonchalantly slipped, watching Aberforth’s face cloud, “Now, who is possessive?” He asked in a overly sweet tone.

Aberforth glowered. “The hell is she writing you abou-”

“If you don’t end this,” he roughly interrupted, dropping the act completely, “You’re the one who’s not going to be healthy.” Gellert warned him.

“Seriously though,” Potter took over, “I can’t believe you let us push McLaggen, knowing… your sister already got someone.” he reprimanded Aberforth, “That’s not nice.” He said in a scowl.

“I just wanted my sibling to be with someone sane.” Aberforth sighed in exasperation, “I tried my best to make them match, I don’t know where I failed -”

“Please, I will -”

Gellert laughed, “You failed at the very start, because you’re too stupid and mindless to be anything else but a failure.” He said, putting the emphasis on the last word.

“-talk. I could write everything down if this could help you?”

Aberforth violently pushed his chair out and stood up. He rose his wand in front of Gellert’s face, “Repeat this.” He challenged between a clenched jaw.

“I’m not afraid of a farmer,” he rose from his seat too as he spoke, his wand into his hand and ready to be used. “Who loves his goats just a bit too much –”

“This was something I truly hadn’t needed to know. Merlin, the images –” Henry covered his glasses with his hands and let out a traumatised groan.

“Shut up Potter!” Aberforth shouted, his face as red as his hair, “There are just gross rumors,” he defended, before accusing him again, “Bet you had a hand in them –”

“From what I’ve heard,” Gellert cut him off without a care, “You have no need for a hand.”

“Holy shit.” 

“Please, I will give you everything!” 

*  
“Oi, Sobbosh!” one of his colleague, William Safer, a young man who made Auror two years ago, called him through the corridors. He mostly worked alongside the Department of Magical Law Enforcement , treating files and handing them to the Aurors. His desk was as messy as usual, covered with pile of papers. Jonah had never seen it neat. But ever since Torquil Travers had been given the Head Auror’s badge, the poor furniture seemed ready to crumble under the weigh it had to bear. Safer too, if he was honest, was beginning to look washed out. Jonah swore he used to be less pale than this. He actually teamed with him once in the the field, and he admitted that his good spirit had gotten to him. “Shouldn’t you be with your new recruits?” He asked in a smile.

Jonah sighed, feeling very old suddently. “I was. I,” he started, “I assigned a little exercice to some of them, while the others continue the tests.” he was hesitant to say more, “They’re downstairs, in the cells.” He barely managed to get this out. He was, frankly, a bit ashamed, but what else was he supposed to do?

Safer looked at him in shock, “You leave them with the prisoners now?” he wondered aghast, “Isn’t it a bit too much for a first day?”

“They’re not with the prisoners, they’re the prisoners.” as Safer’s face became more and more alarmed, he continued, “Two of them started fighting inside the interrogation room, and the third one was only diverting the most harmful spells at the furnitures.” he recalled the look on Potter’s face. The kid had watched one of the chair turned into an animated object full of fur with too much glee. Jonah had put him on time-out with the two others quickly after that. He didn’t want to know what the spell was supposed to do on humans. “They needed to cool off.”

Safer gazed at him, quizzically. “Are you going to keep them into the program, then?”

“Yes.” he sighed again, this time in resignation, “They’re all too good at casting to be put aside. But I’m supposed to give them a little mission to continue their evaluation, and I don’t know what to choose.” Nothing was harmless enough, and the risks for collateral damages were too big.

“I think I can find you something.” Safer proposed as he ruffled through his papers. “There’s this pub in Hogsmead.” he got a file out of his alarming high pile of parchment. Jonah watched it, in fear that the lot would fall down. It didn’t. A small miracle. “We got severals witnesses saying that it might not be conform to the lastest restrictions.” he told him, “Some said something about shoes, but I’m honestly not sure it’s relevent.” he smiled, sheepish, and offered him the file. “Why not sent them here? It’s probably nothing and some fresh air might do them good.”

Jonah took the file Safer was handing him with dread. He was in a dire need of holidays, he thought longingly, somewhere where no one would ask him to deal with tempered wizards. “I guess.” He said, sounding unconvinced even to his own ears.

*  
“It’s all your fault.” Aberforth accused sourly.

The three of them were confined inside one of the gloomy cells of the Ministry. Two guards were gazing at them every now and then. At least it was spacious enough that Gellert didn’t have to be stuck too close to Aberforth. A mercy.

“How so?” Gellert asked him idly. He was leaning against one the wall of their prison, and looking up at their only window. It was too high to truly see what was outside, but he could hear the busy sounds of the streets upward and feel the pale sun warming his face. “If I recall correctly, you were the one who started it all.” he was pretty sure, anyway. “If we’re both fired because of this, don’t expect to have won our little competition.” Gellert could shoulder an hour behind bars, but he couldn’t imagine admitting to a breathing soul that Aberforth had beaten him at anything. His pride would never allow this offense.

Aberforth massaged his temples as if this could change the situation they were in. Gellert doubted it could open the heavy door they had been locked behind.

“I can’t believe they put me with you! It’s so unfair.” Potter complained. “I’m innocent.” He opened his eyes big under his even bigger glasses as if to prove his harmless nature to them.

Aberforth stared at him for a beat, “You’re the sole reason I’m here in the first place.” he dramatically threw his hands in the air, “I should have never agree to this! What, in Merlin name, was I thinking?”

Gellert regarded Potter curiously, wondering if he had used his most persuasive abilities on him. Gellert knew from experience that he was good at making people do what he wished. Someone who was as dim as Aberforth was probably an easy target. But Potter only shrugged one of his shoulder in answer to his silent question.  
They heard the sound of keys and they all turned toward it. It was Sobbosh who was coming to them. He turned the key into the lock with the look of a man marching to his doom.

“I have a task for you three.” he sounded tired, “But before, I hope you all learnt from this little experience?” He studied them sternly, while he juggled between opening their door and holding a file under one of his arm.

“Yes.” Gellert assured gravely. The Ministry’s cells got major flaws. For one, the high window. Gellert believed that with enough concentration, he could find a way to direct his magic at it. For two, the guards. Here, so close to the prisoners, and oh so bored. A little push, some well spoken words, and Gellert bet he could make them open the door for him. Even put them behind it, perhaps, and wouldn’t that be amusing?

“Sure.” Aberforth said even as he rolled his eyes. Even though he was playing it lightly, he seemed to be itching to get out. For once, Gellert couldn’t fault him for this.

Sobbosh finally gazed at Potter. The latter stared back at him, “I still maintain that I didn’t do anything.”

Their instructor frowned, but moved on, “Alright, everything you need to know about your assignment for tomorrow is in there.” he gave the file to them with great reluctance. “Good luck,” he winced, “I guess.”

*  
“How was your first day?” Albus asked him right as he stepped away from the fireplace of Nurmengard. He didn’t wait for an answer before he welcomed him with a soft kiss.

“Uneventful.” he replied, before stealing another kiss. “How was yours?” He inquired.

Albus’s expression lighted up, “Galatea and I used the Boggart on the six years today. Some Riddikulus were truly creative, I saw –”

Gellert listened to his tale attentively. Albus laughed as he recalled the most silly things he had witnessed, and Gellert smiled. He had made the right decision. For now, Albus was perfect in Hogwarts. And this didn’t mean that they couldn’t search for the Hallows during their spare time. Gellert was probably a week away from winning his competition against Aberforth, which would give him plenty of free time (he intended to quit from the Aurors just as soon as it was done, he had no intention to work for the Ministry, he was not that bored).

Yes, here and now, he could delude himself: everything was going well.

*  
The trouble was at night, when Gellert fell into a slumber so deep that even Albus’s laughters couldn’t reach him.

He had Visions then. He dreamt.

His feet were deep into the thick snow. He could see the puff of air in front of him, coming at each respiration.  
He looked up, from his boots disappearing into the white, to the tall trees with their pale leaves. A heavy breath from the wind and one of them fell, turning onto itself, like a ballerina. It was attacked by the bite of the frost right away, and when it finally reached the ground next to him, it was already frozen.  
Sounds of voices reached him. Two of them, argued somewhere into the woods. He lowered his head to the ground again. There were footsteps drawn, creating a path into the immaculate snow. He blindly followed it, closing on the voices as he did so and –

He woke up, his eyes opening in sudden alarm and his heart beating wildly into his chest. He sat on the mattress and risked a glance to the other side of the bed. Albus, next to him, was still breathing evenly. Gellert didn’t wake him up, nor did he wake him up the last times it had happened either. Albus would be a comfort, but Albus would want explanations, and Gellert would rather keep this to himself. So he laid back and tried to calm his breathing.  
Albus was perfect in Hogwarts, he reminded himself. The wards were heavy and the cold was harmless there.  
He still had a hard time chasing the images from his eyes.

*  
September, Tuesday, 4th

“Look, it’s here.” Potter pointed at the shop, “It’s called,” he trailed as he leafed through the papers they had been given, “The Golden’s Boot.” He finally said.

“I would have never guessed.” Aberforth moodily muttered. He didn’t seem to be a morning person, but then it was difficult to guess, given that this bad disposition followed him all days and nights.

Gellert supposed that the name of the pub was rather obvious. One couldn’t come near it without spotting the huge sign on the front showing up a single yellow boot glittering like a coin. From the animated Hogsmead’s street he was in, the pub looked pretty harmless. It was nicely kept, its windows were clean, and the few consumers he could see from there, were peacefully sat on little wood chairs. It didn’t exactly screamed ‘illegal’, at least not like the shops in Knockturn Alley did.  
The doorbell even chimed as they entered, and Gellert began to seriously doubt that this kind of pub could been hiding anything controversial. 

Still he went to the counter where, weirdly enough a minuscule leprechaun was cleaning a glass. He was old looking with a long white beard that almost reached his feet, and wearing a vibrant green coat. This caught his attention.  
It was more an elf’s work than a leprechaun. They were untrustful creature as far as Gellert knew, ready to sell their brother if this could give them a form a gain. They had the tendency to lie and, coupled with their sour mood and the fact that their magic could confuse even the most skilled wizards, they were often only considered harmless if put far away. They were also possessive of what they considered theirs, and tended to not be seen outside their lands.  
He sat on the high chair and considered the bottles neatly lined behind the counter closely.

He felt Potter taking the seat next to him. “I’ve never seen of pub run by leprechaun before.” he started to converse gently with the busy bartender. “What’s your name? I’m Henry.” He happily presented himself.

The bartender hesitated before he replied, in a gruff voice, “Nicethee.”

Silence.  
Gellert stopped his visual inspection to blink at the creature. The leprechaun’s expression had been set into a permanent scowl ever since they had stepped in, and from the look of his face, this was not a rare occurrence. Yet, someone had deemed it reasonable to call him Nicethee.  
He and Potter exchanged a look. Potter made a vaillant attempt at not outright laughing. He only let out a soft chuckle that he turned into a cough, while Gellert hid most of his amusement behind his palm.

“Are you from Ireland?” Potter wondered. Speaking seemed to help him to keep his laugh from bursting free, “I have some family in Galway.” He slipped.

The petite creature snorted inside his beard, “Galway is not what it used to be.” was all he offered on the subject, “Are you drinking something?” He swept his narrowed eyes at them.

“Why not.” Aberforth sighed as he sat too, “Give us three beers, please.” he ordered, before he said to Gellert, “You’re paying, by the way.”

Gellert raised an eyebrow at him, “And why, pray tell, shall I pay?”

Aberforth regarded him as if it was evident, “Which one of us lives in a castle?” He countered.

“You live in a castle?” Potter asked him. “Wait,” he said, stuck by another idea it seemed, “Does Albus live with you? Since, you’re…” He finished his sentence by putting his two index together, in a parody of a kiss.

Gellert rolled his eyes at him, while Aberforth made a sound of utter pain, “Please, never do that again.” He pleaded at his friend.

The leprechaun served them, their glasses clicking against the dark wood of the counter. “My castle is an inheritance.” Gellert explained as his fingers closed around his drink. He could feel the cold of the beer through the thick glass. It made him uneasy, not the chill in itself but more of what it reminded him these days. Too many nights laid awake after dreaming of snow and screams. But he didn’t release his hold, not allowing himself to show a form of weakness in public. “It doesn’t mean that I’m rich.” He said before tasting the amber liquid. He shallowed quickly before putting the glass down. He frowned at it. Looked at the beer more carefully.

“At least, you inherited something.” Aberforth mumbled inside his glass.

“I didn’t imagine being Aurors would be like this,” Potter said as he was nursing his drink between his hands, “I mean, it’s ten in the morning, and I’m at the pub.” he giggled, “If my mother learnt of it, I’m dead!”

“Don’t sound so thrilled by the prospect.” Aberforth chided him in a tired sigh.

“Your beer,” Gellert started, making the bartender’s pointy ears turned toward him. “Are you making them yourselves?”

Nicethee considered him, “Yes.” He said in a tone that strongly suggested that he drop this line of reasoning.

Gellert didn’t. “And I’m sure that you use all the protecting Charms necessary.” he said in a most agreeable smile, “Nobody wants to have leprechaun’s dust put into their drinks, after all.”

At this, a look of panic crossed the creature’s face, and Aberforth quickly put his glass down. It made a loud sound as it hit the counter.

“Oh.” Potter slowly waved the liquid trapped into his glass.

Nicethee tried to escape. Gellert had to give him this, despite his short legs, he was rather quick. But Gellert had his wand already between his fingers. He threw an Incarcerous at him. After that, he silently made his way toward the private section of the pub. Hidden behind a heavy door and a ‘do not enter’ sign, he found a group of leprechauns there. They were caught red handed (or should he say, green handed? There was a worrying amount of it present there), mixing liter of beer along magical’s dust into an impressive cauldron.

Later, it was tested that the mixed beers had twice the dose of alcohol than it should be. In short, people got drunk faster, and during this state of great confusion, the leprechauns were freed to rob wizards and witches easely. (In turned out that it was their clients’ shoes they were after and not their gold. Gellert didn’t even try to comprehend this.) The pub was closed soon after their instructor arrived in Hogsmead village. The culprits of the day were driven into the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, where they would be dealed with.

“How did you know?” Potter asked him as the afternoon ended.

“I recognized the beer.” he replied, leaving his very drunk exploits from last summer out. Potter had no need to know about his singing. He felt victorious though, as he had been sure that he couldn’t have been defeated by simple Irish’s beers. “I had my suspicions on it.” He finished proudly, righting his vest as he did so.

“We can’t even trust alcohol.” Aberforth sounded truly desperate, “The world is turning into a dark place.”

*  
“Oh,” Gellert smiled after Albus had greeted him, “I was right.” He said as if it was an afterthought instead of the ‘I told you so’ he so wanted to throw at him.

“About what exactly?” Albus tilted his head to one side.

Gellert smiled smugly, showing off the pack of beers he subtly seized earlier. “I was right about the beer. It was, indeed, an Irish’s conspiracy.” he smirked wider when he saw the unbelieving stare his lover was giving him. “I told you, I would find my proof.” he reminded him. He lifted the pack, so they were at Albus’s eyes level. “Now, you shall be ashamed for even doubting me and –” Gellert trailed as Albus, whose expression had been frowny, turned into a sweet smile, “What?”

“You are such a good Auror.” He told him sincerely.

It was Gellert’s turn to scowl, “There’s no need to be insulting.”

“But, it is true.”

“Is it?” Gellert replied, with an hint of challenge into his voice.

Well, if it was, it wouldn’t last long, he decided.

*  
September, Wednesday, 5th

“It’s distressing how easy it is to roam inside the Department of Mysteries.” Potter pointed out. 

Gellert softly agreed under the cloak they shared. They had been left on their own because of some incident happening this morning inside the Atrium asking for the help of their instructor. From what he heard several Doxy had managed to escape their guards’ vigilance. Some Departments had been closed in order to retrieve them.

As far as Gellert was concerned, it meant that it was time to investigate the level nine of the Ministry of Magic.

Gellert was a little ashamed to say that he had needed Greety’s help to pop them in. They had passed the entrance room thanks to her (and he had to stuff himself with biscuits for her to agree). After that, Gellert had ignored the Space Chamber, and the Death ones, declaring their titles unappealing. He had deemed the Hall of Propheties a bit too redundant for him, he was already a Seer after all, he didn’t need something to tell him what the future was made of. No, he was far more interested in the Time chamber.

“Turn left,” Gellert instructed, “I want to see what they keep inside those boxes.” He said as he pointed the neat boxed lined near them. The whole room was illuminated by a diamond shaped light, a strange thing that he wasn’t sure he liked.

They carefully moved together under the invisibility cloak. Once Gellert made sure that they were no one in the vicinity, he got his head out of the cloak. He was truly liking it more and more, a shame he had let Potter keep it.

He touched one of the boxes with the tip of his wand, testing it. Since nothing harmful seemed to come from it, he decided to gently push the lid open. He, then, peered down. There were five little objects, each neatly disposed into their own drawers.

“So, what is this?” Potter hushed in unconcealed curiosity as he got his head out of his cloak too.

Gellert took out one of them. It was a necklace with a hourglass pendant. There were three rings circling it. They seemed to be able to turn. 

“I’ve got no idea.” Gellert admitted, “Some sort of watch?” He tired to guess as he fiddled with the circles, making them swirl. He saw an incrisption written on the side of one of them: ‘I mark the hours, every one,' it began. He looked to see if the others had something engraved inside too. Surely enough, the second one said: ‘Nor I have yet outrun the Sun. My use and –’

“There should be an informative’s paper for this kind of thing.” Potter complained in a huff. “Wait,” he put the illuminated tip of his wand against the wooden box. “It’s called ‘time-turners’.”

‘-value, unto you,’ Gellert hummed and replied absently. “Maybe it gives time once it has been activated.”

“What would be the use? A Tempus would be just as quick.”

“I…” He trailed as his eyes were focused on the last circle. ‘Are gauged by what you have to do.’

The hourglass twirled once, twice, and the world moved faster and faster. Everything became vague blurry figures that came and went. The light flickered in and out just as fast.  
Well. Scheiße.

*  
When the world stopped spinning madly around him, Gellert found himself still standing in the middle of the Department of Mysteries, with no Potter nor invisibility cloak. He casted a rapid Disillusionment Charm on him, less someone decided to come and look into his direction.  
The Ministry had enough confidence into their security systeme that they had considered than anyone who was already inside was meant to be, and so, they hadn’t put anti-Disapparition Charms. It was to his advantage, and so he vanished, before he took the direction of the lift.

Once alone in the little space, he tried to think it over.

He looked down at the object in the middle of his palm in consideration. Potter had said that it was called a time-turner. He fiddled with it, more careful now. He continued to muse on it, as the lift went through many directions at a fast pace. It finally stopped at the Atrium, and Gellert exited it. He stopped at the top of the stairs, where his eyes were drawn to the huge clock with the big hand turning there.  
It declared to be the beginning of the morning, when a moment ago, it had been the afternoon.

So, the time-turner either made him lost time, or won some, Gellert deduced.

As he walked down the stairs and inspected the device, he absently noticed the large box being carried by several wizards downstairs. It seemed jumpy, in the sense that whatever was inside appeared to be moving.  
But as his attention was not completely on his surrounding, he didn’t move out of the way, and was therefore very annoyed when he felt someone bump into him. He lifted his eyes from the golden jewel just in time to see the man who had elbowed him tripping on his robes with a yelp. His fall and scream broke the concentration of the three wizards who were lifting said jumpy box with the help of a Levioso. They turned their heads toward the falling man, and in doing so, stopped abruptly their walk. Making another wizard, who was carrying a pile of parchment, elbow a witch who was passing, in his haste to not walk into them. The witch made a ‘ow’ sound, caught between surprise and indignation, right when someone entered the Atrium, letting a bust of wind follow him. All the probably sensible informations the man was carrying fled from his arms, the witch used her magic to direct the papers away from her, and they went right into the three guards’ faces who lost what was left of their concentrations. The box fell onto the ground in a loud ‘thud’, and opened. Gellert watched several Doxy jumped away from it. Shocked screams followed this.

The Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes was going to have a field day with this, he mused unimpressed.

Then, he grinned.

So this must be what happened this morning, he thought as the Doxy fled into every directions much to everyone’s panic. So, the time-turner made him went back in time. A quick look at the clock and he calculated that he had four hours before he had to go back where he had started, inside the Department of Mysteries with Potter.

For now, though… well. There were others Departments he had yet to visit.

*  
Gellert honestly had the time of his life.

It was amazing what could been done in four hours when everyone thought you were already elsewhere (which, technically, he was).  
He took a deeper look at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement while everyone was busy with the fugitives Doxy. No one raised an eyebrow at him, so either his Disillusionment Charm was even more better than he recalled it to be, either people were more easely distracted than he had first thought.

The only downside to his little trip in time, was that he once again needed Greety’s help to enter the Depatment of Mysteries, and therefore, had to subject himself to more biscuits. He truly needed to find a way around her emotional blackmail, and the sooner, the better.

Anyway, since he still had one hour before his time was up, he decided to try his luck at opening the Ever-Locked-Room. He didn’t succeed, but the Brain room honestly sounded awful. He stole a look at the keyhole of the huge door closing the room, trying to identify the shapes he could make out. But in the end, he had no ideas of what he was staring at. It was very strange and intriguing, perhaps he would investigate it another time.

For now though, he quickly made his way back into the Time room.  
Potter was here with his cloak, and Gellert saw himself fiddle with the hourglass pendant, before he blinked out of existence. Potter took a step backward and let out an exclamation of surprise. Gellert stepped, right into his back, and poked him. Potter almost jumped out of his skin, to which Gellert smirked. He turned and looked at him, his eyes wide with panic, before they settled into confusion as he recognized him.

“What the hell.” he shook his head and stared where Gellert had been, a second prior for him, to where he was now. “How did you do that?”

“Well,” he pocketed the time-turner into his vest. “It’s a long story.”

*  
“Do you want to get wasted on leprechaun’s alcohol?” Gellert had wondered that evening, as he remembered the pack he had so swiftly taken. He figured that it would be a waste to not make use of it.

Albus looked at him like he was mad for even suggesting this. It didn’t last long however. “Why not. It’s been a long time since you seneraded to me.” He told him in an amused smile.

“I will not sing.” Gellert promised darkly.

*  
“Did you –hip- curse my brother yet?” Albus asked him very, very late that night. He was sprawled on the couch, but was starting to slid from it and onto the floor. An inevitable and slow fall.

“Nein.” he took another sip of his beer. “I be-behaved.” Then he chuckled because he just stole a magical device today. Behaving was a matter of perspective.

“That’s niiiice.” Albus drawled before giggling. “Hip.” his body rolled off the couch and he fell to the floor. Gellert didn’t have the energy to go check on him. He was confortably sat inside his armchair, and intended to stay here. “Merlin, the room is spinning. Gellert, why is the room spinning?” He asked him.

“It’s because of the Iri-ish.” He laughed uncontrollably at this, his thoughts turning to little leprechauns with oversized beards. Gods, but their alcohol was something. Gellert’s inebriated brain congratulated himself for this fantastic idea.

“Oh yes, I remem –hip- ber.” Albus laughed along him. He made a vaillant attempt at standing before he swayed and Gellert barely caught his wrist before he could crash down again. It only made Albus giggle more, and he lazily rested his head on the top of Gellert’s legs, as if this was where he had intended to go all along, and not where he had ended up to. “Say, you won’t believe the thing Galate-hip- a said.” He finished by burying his head in the fabric of Gellert’s trouser. Honestly if he wasn’t so wasted right now, he would find the sight of Albus kneeling at his feet, and so near, arousing. As it was, he only wondered if Albus was going to find the floor again. He hummed a melody that he deemed appropriate given the suspence. Would fall, wouldn’t fall.

“Do, do, do tell me.” He sing songed.

“She want me to, hip, go, to the…” he trailed and furrowed his forehead in confusion, “The Three thing!” he suddently exclamed. “They are ta-alking about it.” he then whispered like a secret, “It’s in discussion, but hush.” He put a finger in front of his lip. Or somewhere close to.

Gellert made the approriate ‘oooh’ noises even though he had no idea what Albus was even saying anymore. “She want that?”

“Yeah!” Albus happily said. “I wanna.” he poped the last words like one would do with a bubble gum. “I gonna. Perhaps. Buuut.” he trailed extravagantly, “If you’re not there, that’s not funny, I want you to be the-hip.”

“I so can b-be there.” Gellert affirmed.

“Can you?” Albus challenged in a yawn.

“I am the boss of my life.” He asserted firmly, believing that his words could become true just by saying them.

Albus laughed in delight, before passing out. Gellert followed him soon after.

*  
September, Thursday, 8th

The day was long, and Gellert’s hangover was persistent. 

This morning, Gellert had discovered that Albus didn’t do hangover like everyone else; so while he had been cursing about the lights and wishing for a potion to make his headache vanish, Albus had been perfectly fine. He had given him said potion, before he decided to glow happily and smugly inside their kitchen. He even ate breakfast, when Gellert had been repulsed by the smell alone.  
The whole thing had been terribly unfair. Even more so, after Albus had gently reminded him that he had been the one who had wanted to drink in the first place.

Later, he made his way to the Ministry, feeling vindicative and vaguely justified to be critical about everything. He thought that he told Aberforth to screw, but even he could tell that his heart wasn’t on it. (His heart felt too ill for that.)  
He supposed that one couldn’t be at their top everyday. (He would make sure to properly tell Aberforth to get lost tomorrow.)

*  
September, Friday, 7th

When he got out of the fireplace and into Nurmengard that night, the first thing that tipped him off was the relative silence.  
Usually, Albus was somewhere near, awaiting for him to come home, even though when Gellert had pointed this out to him, he had denied it. It often resulted in Greety being near - she couldn’t let any of them be without something to drink or eat for long - and she tended to follow Albus around the most, because he was weak on promises of tea and sweets, and she was quick to exploit it.

Now though, the castle appeared to be silent. There were no flying teapot around, no Albus’ mess laying on the table and falling on the rug of the living, and no house-elf trying to kill him, slowly, with sugar.

It was strange.

He took the stairs and poked his head into the study only to find it empty. He frowned and made his way to the potion room Albus had created, wondering if he had gotten lost in whatever new project he had.  
As a rule, Gellert never set a foot into it. It wasn’t that Albus had forbidden him to. It was that after Paris, Gellert had been ready to burn all his ancestors’ portraits - he was sick of listening to them bickering – but mostly, he had been stuck into a painting for a week, and therefore, never wanted to gaze at another one.  
So it wasn’t that he couldn’t enter the little potion room. It was that Albus - who had been in a far more charitable mood than him - had taken off every paintings the castle possessed, and put them there. He said that he didn’t mind to have company when he worked. Gellert, who knew his ancestors well enough to wish he didn’t, had told him that he was going to regret it.  
So, it was with great reluctance that he opened the potion room’s door.

The chatter inside stopped long enough for his great-great-grandmother to say: “Ah, look, it’s our little delinquent.” She drawled even she studied him with attention.

He eyed her. Linabella Grindelwald had been painted in her thirties appearance, an explicit request from her. One could accuse her to be vain, but it was true that she had been pretty, with her hair delicatly waving down on her shoulders, and her luminous eyes. Still, he also knew for a fact that she had murdered her husband because she had deemed him unworthy, so he truly got no lessons to take from her (except, perhaps, how she had managed to not go into prison for her crime).

He smiled at her, all teeth, “Careful,” he told her, “A fire can start so quickly great-great-grandmother.”

She bristled, and his great-grandfather exclamed, “See! This kind of temper is all from your side of family!” To his great-grandmother.

Severals shouts replied to this statement, and Gellert rolled his eyes at them all. His ancestors had clearly not improved since the last time he had the misfortune to see them and Albus was not even there.

“If I recall correctly, you tried to kill your daughter in law!” His great-grandmother’s voice rang through the room.

“He didn’t even manage it. My son had always been such a disappointment.” Linabella said, unflinching and unforgiving.

“Mother! How could you!”

“And you! You poisoned the gardener! Everybody knows!” Now this was his great-great-aunt accusing his great-uncle.

“What did you use already? I always forgot.” His great-uncle’s wife, Vanya, wondered. 

“Oh nothing fancy. A couple of yew’s seed inside his cup, and he was good. I mean...” His great-uncle trailed awkwardly.

“He deserved it. I recall what he did to my petunia.” His great-great-great-grandfather suddently piped up. 

“You think it was bad?” his daughter replied, “He destroyed my apple tree!”

“It’s so hard to find competent staff.” Linabella stated. Gellert recalled his mother saying the exact same thing. She was little too much like her for him to be confortable, despite not even being her distant relatives. It troubled him.

“True.” another ancestor of his agreed with an empathic nod, “I used dragon’s scale for my maid.”

“Huh.” one of the painting wondered out loud, “Was it not because she had been sleeping with your brother?”

“Oh poor thing! This must have cost you so much!” Another one lamented.

“She was truly overpriced.”

Gellert sighed and tried to rein his temper. The Silencio spell was on the tip of his tongue. “Does somebody know where Albus is?” Or are you all useless, he didn’t add.

It was Linabella who answered him, “He’s in your room. He’s doing his suitcase.”

Gellert turned sharply toward her, “Why is he doing his suitcase?” They had no travels planned. Albus had no reasons to be doing that. 

She smirked, a bit cruel now that she knew something he clearly didn’t. “I haven’t asked him.” She lied with that practised ease that made Gellert want to tear them all down. 

He narrowed his eyes at Linabella one last time in warning, before he closed the door and left them to their old arguments. He went to their chamber, since according to her (and she was probably the last trustful ancestor he had, which was saying a lot) Albus was there. He reasoned that she must have said this just to be petty, and that it was – surely – not even true.

But as he came closer to their room, he made out the sound of Greety trying to cajole someone to eat, along the steady voice of Albus, who was becoming weaker in his refusal as she insisted.  
This still didn’t mean that he was doing his suitcase (screw his great-great-grandmother, Gellert thought unkindly). But, he stopped in the doorway of their shared bedroom, and he hovered there like an idiot because Albus was, in fact, doing his suitcase. (Gellert confirmed his statement: screw his great- great-grandmother.)  
Albus was standing near their bed. Gellert saw his profile looking down critically at the open suitcase he put on their mattress as if he was debating what to add inside. His fingers tapped a rhythm on his jaw. Fawkes was perched near the windows, and looked to be dozing. Greety was imploring Albus to eat just one more biscuit. Her eyes were big on him, and he clearly was trying his best to ignore them by focusing on his task.

“What are you doing?” Gellert blurted, feeling his voice rose inexplicably in the middle of the sentence.

Both Greety and Albus turned toward him in surprise. “Oh. I hadn’t heard you arrive.” Albus gave him an apologic smile.

“Greety hadn’t prepared diner!” his house-elf exclamed in dsimay, “Greety will do it now!” She said with determination before she poped out of the room, and to the kitchens apparently.

He frowned deeply, ignoring Greety’s antics. “Why are you doing a suitcase? Where are you going?” He fired rapidly. He swore that if Albus said he was leaving him and touring with Elphias, Gellert would personally kill the guy. His ancestors would even give him tips.

If Albus was taken aback by his tone, he recovered quickly. “You remember when you suggested drinking and I told you about ‘the Three thing’ that I wasn’t supposed to tell you about?”

“Yes and no.” Gellert answered because they had both been pretty wasted that night. He was bound to have missed a thing or two. 

Albus smiled, “Well. You won’t believe what they decided on.”

“Who decided what?” He pressed, just this side of suspicious.

“There was an incident, Wednesday.” he said gently, “A diplomatic one, between the Bristish’s Ministry of Magic and some high profile, from a pureblood family, in Greece.” he explained, “Apparently, very sensible files had been leaked out. Something do to with Doxy?” he patted his jaw as if to recall, “At least, that what the rumors said.” He half shrugged.

Gellert began to have a truly bad feeling. He sat on their mattress. “What did it have anything to do with you doing a suitcase?” He asked as he pointed at the case resting next to him.

“The incident created a bit of an international turmoil.” he replied, “Severals countries began to fight, verbally, over who was right and wrong, and started to take sides.” he paused as if considering something, “People easely get passionate about someone’s else life.” He hummed.

“People like gossip you mean.”

He agreed in a nod, “After a lot of shouting matches, several governments decided that the matter needed to be contained before it ended up in a more violent outcome.” he told him, “So,” he breathed, “They settled to organize a Triwizard Tournement. They seem to think that the three biggest schools of witchcraft and wizardry will be able to show an exemple of ‘cohesion and fraternity’,” he quoted, looking on the verge of rolling his eyes, “Even though no ones like the others.” He concluded in sigh as if all of this was terribly tiring.

He stared at Albus for a beat, before letting out an astonished, “Really?”

Albus lifted one shoulder, “It appears to be about the only thing everyone could agree on.” his fingers tapped soundlessy on his upper leg once before he continued, “Somehow, Galatea proposed me to go with Dippet. And well, since, unlike the others, I am not in fact a needed teacher, they,” he paused, “They thought it was a good idea.”

“Wait.” Gellert tried to follow this diplomatic mess along Albus’ explanation, “Where did they choose to hold this Tournament exactly?”

Albus hesitated. Gellert could see him debating over it, wondering if it was worst to say it or to stay silent. “In the Durmstrang Institute.” He finally admitted.

He stood up. This was exactly what he hadn’t wanted to hear (alright, this was better that if Albus was running away with Elphias). “Who, in their right minds, would choose Durmstrang for a place of peace and fraternity?” He wondered out loud, hearing his own accent becoming thicker at each words. He scoffed in annoyance at this obvious tell of agitation and thought quickly.

This wouldn’t do at all. Albus shouldn’t go there, couldn’t go there, Gellert reminded himself, because, because –  
Because every nights his feet were deep into the thick snow. Because there were footsteps drawn onto the ground, creating a path. Because he blindly followed it, and closed on the voices as he did so, two of them, male, argued and –  
Because Gellert knew where this Vision was taking place. And it was a bit too close to Durmstrang for his taste. But Gellert couldn’t tell Albus that now, could he? He recalled what happened last time, when he shared his Vision of Ariana’s Obscurus with Albus. And, honestly, he didn’t think this conversation would go any better.

“Is this alright?” Albus wondered, sounding uncertain as he witnessed his reaction.

“Yes, of course.” Gellert was quick to say. He went to drop a kiss on his cheek in apology, “Sorry, I was only surprised.”

Albus beamed at him, “It’s fine.”

No, it was not. But he kept this to himself.

*  
Hours later, Gellert tossed and turned inside their bed.

After sleep evaded him for the fourth hours, he decided to get up. He wrapped himself inside a dressing grown, and silently took the stairs to the study. There, he began to pace, back and forth, forth and back.

Time travel was ridiculous, he thought. Since when did using a little time device inside the British’s Ministry - and unintentionally letting some Doxy out - created a whole diplomatic fight with another country?

From what he had gathered from Albus, it had been a matter on who had – maybe - slept with who and for what ‘price’. The high profile in Greece, a diplomate, was denying everything, but Gellert thought that it had been done with a side of outrage that screamed the whole truth about this supposed liaison. The British member of the Ministry concerned by it, was more preocuppated with trying to salvage his reputation for now, but had been ready to accuse Greece of spying.  
After that, Prussia had taken England’s side in this strange diplomatic scandal. Russia had been quick to take the opposite side of England and therefore supporting Greece’s story. France would rather support Russia over Prussia any day a week and if they got to snort toward England’s direction in the same move, then it all became downright irresistible. Politics, honestly.

Still, a Triwizard Tournament? How some schoolboys and girls fighting against one other was supposed to appease anyone?  
Through competition apparently.  
The autorities were surely hoping to reunite most disagreeing countries over this, and perhaps, even made them forget about it completely as they turned their entire focus on the game. But, did they have to do this in Durmstrang in all places? Gellert let out an agaced huff.

He continued to pace.

Since Albus was to go, Gellert had two options. Either he let him go alone, hoping that this would change his Vision, or he found a way to follow.

Gellert paced some more.

He promised to not let themselves be separated. And the idea of Albus, alone in the middle of all those distrustful Durmstrang’s students, was unbearable. Albus could defend himself if it came to it, of course he could, but Durmstrang was Dark. People there were teached to use manipulation and deception, along vicious curses. Gellert knew it better than anyone, he had excelled at it all. 

Decision made, he went to dress himself up before taking the floo.

*  
Gellert’s knocks grew insistant against the door. It finally opened, to a disheveled and unamused Potter.

“Oh no.” was what he said when his eyes adjusted to the glaring light coming from lamppost of his street, “I don’t care if you want my cloak now and want to duel me for it. It will have to wait for the bloody sun to come up, some do sleep at night.” He firmly told him, and looked about to close the door on his face, so Gellert pushed it open and let himself inside.

“Don’t be dramatic.” He astonished him in frown as he stepped into Potter’s little flat. Honestly, there could be plenty of reasons for him to visit in the middle of the night no? The fact that he couldn’t come up with a single ones right now, didn’t mean he was wrong.

Potter let out an exasperated whine. He followed him into his living, and he all but dropped all his weigh into his couch. “What now?” He wondered, sounding exhausted.

Gellert rolled his eyes at his antics. “I need you to forge a letter for me.”

He eyed him. “What make you think I can forge a letter?”

“Are you telling me you don’t have one of those forging quill?” Gellert countered, his tone just as disbelieving as his face.

Potter conceaded the point with a pout. “For whom would it be?”

Gellert smiled. “For Travers. I want him to believe that the Russian’s Bureau of International Magical Cooperation wrote to him.” They were the perfect candidate for this, for their chief - a old wizard whom no one was even bothering to remember the age - had the tendency to forget what he had done or not. A letter of this nature from him, would be seen as yet another mishap from the Bureau, and would therefore, be overlooked.

Potter raised his eyebrows. “And what will they say?” He further questionned.

“They’re asking if Travers could take care of the security during the Triwizard Tournament.” he explained, “All in the name of international peace and diplomacy, of course.”

“Of course.” He drawled.

“Add something about Travers’ resolution of the ‘Portraits’ Case’ in Paris,” he instructed as the same time as he thought it, “And how this shows that he’s the best for the job or something.” He waved one of his hand in the air, no caring much about the details.

Potter seemed to consider him for a long time. “You want to go to the Triwizard Tournament they are hosting in Durmstrang.” he finally said. As Gellert lifted one eyebrow in surprise, “The news broke out not long after you went home.” he slunched even further into his couch. He sighed longly. “I don’t know if I can stomach more russians.” He mused out loud while he looked at the dragon’s plushy resting next to him.

“Austrian.” Gellert corrected.

He made a ‘whatever’ sound. He breathed and passed a hand into his hair, messing it even more. “You realize Travers will never take recruits with him, right?”

“We’re the best recruits they have,” Gellert stated, because honestly they were (and yes, it physically hurt him to include Aberforth), “And,” he smirked meaningfully, “After a little push from your part to remind Travers of that…” he trailed, letting Potter fill into the blanks, “I’m sure he will take us along.”

Potter put his head into his hands and sighed again. “Veela’s powers are not the Imperius.” he mumbled into his palms. “I cannot force someone to do something.”

“But you can strongly push them into a direction, am I right?” This was what Gellert had guessed from the sole time he had been under this.

“To an extend.” he said, “And only if it was already something that was on their minds.” he dropped his hands into his lap, “I can’t make them do something they’re truly against.” He insisted.

Gellert hummed briefly before saying, “I don’t think you will need to push him a lot.” he assured him, “He seems very sure and full of himself ever since he got his Head Auror’s title. I believe that if you flatter his ego, perhaps by saying that he could be a shining example for us all, he would agree without much efforts from your part.”

He regarded him flalty. “Why don’t you do it then?”

“It’s better if we put all luck to our side.”

Potter shook his head and whispered ‘unbelievable’ to his plushy. “If I say yes,” he started carefully, “Would you consider my debt paid?”

This again. He frowned. The use of Time magic seemed to have caused far more ripples than Gellert could have imagined. It made his opinion on it lower drastically. It was repetitve and mostly useless. What was the point of going back in time if, when you changed something, you ended up with even more troubles than the ones you had started with? 

“It depends.” he told him for the second time, “Would you rather do multiple little things for me or only one big?” Gellert wondered evenly, feeling like he was stuck in a rehearsed dialogue.

“If this is little for you, I don’t think I want to know what’s big.” He replied, just like the last time.

Gellert waited, but Potter stared back at him nonpulsed and stayed put on his couch. Gellert’s eyes slid to the plushy resting on the couch and he added, “There’re surely going to have dragons.” he slipped casually, “The Durmstrang’s Headmaster is from Romania and he likes to show-off. Dragons are often used for this kind of event.”

Potter huffed, “Fine!” he threw his hands in the air and stood up, “I’m doing it now! Give me some parchment, you mad man, and I will fetch my quill.”

*  
September, Monday, 10th

“Er… sir.” Henry awkwardly said as he found himself in front Torquil Travers’s imposing desk. His secretary, a far too nice and trusting woman had let him in. Henry felt a tiny bit guilty by using her good nature this way, but at the same time: dragons. So here he was.

Head Auror Travers vaguely hummed. The man hadn’t even lifted his head from the newspaper he was reading when Henry had entered. “What do you want, Dorothy?”

Henry frowned at him. Dorothy was the way too nice lady who worked as his secretary. She was in her twenties, her hair was made of lovely curls and her skin was chocolate. Honestly, his lack of floral dress should have been enough for Travers to deduce that he was not, in fact, her.

“You received a letter.” he continued, not correcting him. Poor Dorothy though. “I’ve been told it’s quite urgent, sir.”

Travers waved his hand either to dimiss him or to tell him to put his mail on the desk, Henry didn’t know. But the man still hadn’t look at him, and this wouldn’t do. He sighed as he took his glasses off his nose and pocketed it into his hand.  
(Gellert had idly wondered that night if he even needed glasses. Henry hadn’t answered him. The truth was complicated: he didn’t need them to see, but he needed them to keep most of his Veela’s heritage in check. Instead he had asked Gellert which Charm he used on his hair to make them look so fluffy. As expected, he only received silence. Before the night ended, they had agreed to be on first name basis; Henry was getting sick of hearing ‘Potter’ everywhere, and Gellert owned him for waking him up in the middle of the night. He guessed that made them even.)

“Sir, I said,” Henry began to put some of his magic behind his words, “That you received a letter.” Travers folded the newspaper down and blinked at him. Henry smiled, this was better. He continued, “It’s from the Russian’s Bureau of International Magical Cooperation, sir. They’re offering that you take care of the security during the Triwizards Tournement they are staging in their country. I suggest,” he infused with power, “That you accept.” Travers was nodding even before he finished. So, the Head Auror was one of those very receptive person. Interesting, he thought. “You will want Aurors to come with you of course.” he pointed, “But not too much. There’s the security of England to think first and foremost, is there not?”

“Yes, of course.” He replied. Travers expression was dazed. He barely blinked now.

“Why not take the recruits with you?” he proposed innocently, and continued before Travers could truly linger on it, “They are very competent and so in need of a capable example, such as yourself.” He praised easely.

Travers began to preen. It was annoying that Gellert was so right. The man was truly weak for flatteries.

“Read this letter.” Henry instructed as his bored his eyes into his, “And by the way,” he paused briefly, “You shall compliment Dorothy on her lovely dress.” he quickly said before putting his glasses back on, “Good afternoon, sir.” He saluted, before he saw himself out. He thanked and smiled at Dorothy on his way, who replied mutely by stretching her rosy lips into a happy smile. See: far too nice.

(“Did it work?” Gellert asked him later.

“Please.” Henry replied in a roll of his eyes.

Two days later, Travers told them the ‘big news’ and Gellert got his answer.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the leprechauns, there’s a theory that their names come from the Irish’s words: ‘Leath brogan’ which means bootmaker. Which was why I thought it could be amusing if they had a not-so-secret love affair with shoes.  
> Thank you for reading! :D


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